Tainted
by Tori of Lorien
Summary: Gaining the friendship of a mortal child was not something Thranduil expected on his trip to Imladris with his son.  But when secret plots result in grave consequences, the boy may be the king's one hope of survival.  Complete!
1. Chapter 1

**Tainted**

**Disclaimer**: Those you recognize belong to Tolkien. I do not own them. Those you do not recognize belong to me.

**Summary**: Gaining the friendship of a mortal child was not something Thranduil expected on his trip to Imladris with his son. But when secret plots result in grave consequences, the boy may be the king's one hope of survival.

**Rating**: T

**Genre**: Drama/Friendship

**Characters**: Thranduil, Aragorn/Estel, and Elrond, features Glorfindel, Legolas, Elladan/Elrohir, Erestor, and OCs

**Author's Note**: My Thranduil muse insisted on another story. Little Aragorn moved his way into another one (it's his cuteness– it's hard to say no when he looks at you with those wide, gray eyes of his and says, "Pwease?" Lol!). I thought it'd be interesting to put these two characters together and see where it led, and I can honestly say I didn't expect where it took me, lol! Of course, no slash whatsoever between anyone. Also, this is a four part story, so for those of you used to my oneshots, there's a bit more to this one, lol! Much thanks to **doreenthatshot** for letting me bounce ideas off her and her help in figuring some fine points out, as well as to **AnaOfRohan**, for without her, this story wouldn't have been created. Granted, it has changed greatly from our oneshot ideas at one in the morning (mainly trying to figure out a situation where Aragorn has to say "Thranduil," lol), but at least that's where this story got its start, lol! Read, review, but no flames please. Enjoy!

Elvish:

_ion-nín_- my son  
><em>ada<em>- father  
><em>tithen pen<em>- little one  
><em>hannon le<em>- thank you  
><em>mellon-nín<em>- my friend  
><em>hír-nín<em>- my lord

_Chapter 1_

Thranduil sighed as he passed a ringed hand over his face and leaned back in his chair. It had been the fourth long day for him and Elrond, lord of Imladris, as they deliberated over the agreements between them for that season. The king of Mirkwood had been involved with many of them since he had ascended to the throne and before, none of them necessarily pleasant, and though dealing with a friend was a bit more effortless, there were still the inevitable frustrations of reaching an agreement. Elrond himself had stepped outside for some air, and he was inclined to do the same.

Then, the door to the room slowly opened as though with difficulty, and quick, light footsteps began to make their way toward the table after whoever opened it slipped inside. A hint of a smile appeared on Thranduil's face as he watched the small, dark-haired figure struggle to climb up onto the chair across from him for a moment. He then rose to his feet and walked around the table, reaching a hand out and helping the child so that he was sitting safely on the high chair, and he was met with a broad smile and bright, gray eyes. The king's own smile widened slightly as he met the boy's gaze, still amazed how quickly he had grown on him after he and Legolas had arrived in Rivendell.

_"I am eager to meet this mortal child you have grown so fond of, _ion-nín_. You speak so highly of him."_

_Legolas smiled when he turned to meet his father's gaze as a few dark-haired Elves approached them to take their horses to the stables. "He is a dear friend, _Ada_," he said as they began to walk toward the house with their few guards behind them. "I believe you will feel as I do, after a time." The Mirkwood king was not the most trusting, with valid reason, though he hoped the boy would have the same impact on the older Elf as he had on him when he had first met him._

_Thranduil smiled slightly, but before he could respond, a higher voice from the porch before them caught both of their attentions._

_"Legowas!"_

_A small, dark-haired figure was standing at the top of the staircase with the twin sons of Elrond, his gray eyes shining with excitement when he saw the Mirkwood prince. Thranduil glanced at his son, seeing a similar look on Legolas' face, before he turned back to the child as he started to run down the steps._

_Then, in his hurried pace, the boy stumbled when he reached the last couple steps and fell to the ground. Legolas rushed to the small mortal while Elladan and Elrohir quickly made their way down the staircase, but the prince reached him first. He knelt down beside him, setting his hand lightly on his small back while the twins stopped on either side of him. "Are you all right, Estel?"_

_Thranduil took a couple steps forward, watching the dark-haired boy with interest. He hadn't moved much after his small tumble, nor had he made a sound. But when Legolas helped him to sit up, he was surprised to see the smile had not left his face._

_"I'm awl right!" Aragorn answered, causing his foster brothers to chuckle. Legolas smiled in return before he embraced him when the child wrapped his small arms tightly around his neck._

_"You will have to be more cautious, Estel," Elladan told him, ruffling the boy's dark hair when he released the prince. "I know you are excited to see Legolas, but we do not want you getting hurt."_

_Aragorn turned his gaze to the older twin as Elrohir quickly clasped Legolas' arms when he rose to his feet. "But I didn't get huwt," he replied._

_Elladan smiled as he in turn clasped their visitor's arms. "Not this time," he muttered._

_Legolas' smile broadened as he watched his friends, but then he glanced at Thranduil, who had a curious look in his eye. "I apologize," he said, setting his hand on Aragorn's shoulder. "Estel, I would like you to meet my father."_

_Thranduil stiffened slightly when Aragorn turned his gray eyes to him, but a small smile appeared on his face when Elladan and Elrohir approached him first. "'Tis good to see you, Thranduil."_

_"Aye," Thranduil agreed, clasping the twins' arms in turn. He then turned his attention back to Aragorn when Legolas slowly led him forward. The boy appeared to be slightly intimidated as he looked up at his stern features._

_"'Tis good to meet you, Thwan... Thwan... Thwan'dil."_

_Legolas smiled at the five-year-old's attempt to say the proud king's name as his foster brothers had done, exchanging an amused glance with Elladan and Elrohir as the three of them chuckled. Thranduil's eyes narrowed slightly at the child's pronunciation, finding it to be a bit humiliating._

_"'Tis good to meet you, Estel," he muttered. A mortal child named hope. It was something he had not been expecting._

_Aragorn's smile widened, and though he was unsure why, Thranduil felt a slight smile appear on his face as well. Then, the child looked up at him curiously. "Why do you have leaves and bewwies in your hair?" he asked._

_"'Tis his crown, Estel," Elladan answered for him. "Remember we told you he has a different one each season?"_

_"Oh." Aragorn kept his gaze on Thranduil, still curious about the crown he wore for the autumn season. It was something he was unaccustomed to, for he had only seen the silver circlets his family wore._

_Legolas then turned to his father, his smile waning slightly as he leaned a little closer to him. "What do you think, _Ada_?" he wondered quietly._

_Thranduil met his son's hopeful gaze, sighing as he thought over his answer. Aragorn was not much different than other children he had been acquainted to, and he did not yet see what was so special about this one. But Legolas clearly had, he could see the fondness he had for the boy, so he knew there must have been something. Elrond would not have given him his name without a purpose._

_"We shall see, _ion-nín_."_

It was after the second day of deliberation when Thranduil had begun to see what was so different about this particular child.

After dinner, the king had accepted Elrond's invitation to join them in the Hall of Fire to unwind with a couple glasses of wine. Aragorn had been sitting with Legolas as they listened to the tale being told in front of the fireplace that night, but talk of trolls frightened the young boy, who had run to his foster father seeking comfort. Elrond had pulled him onto his lap until Aragorn requested to return to his room. The Elf lord had been about to oblige since it was nearly time for him to sleep, but Thranduil, who had finished his second glass of wine, offered to bring him since he was prepared to retire to his room as well. Elrond agreed, assuring him he would put Aragorn to bed himself, and the king led the child out of the Hall.

_"Awe thewe twows in Miwkwood?"_

_Thranduil glanced down at Aragorn as the child led him down the dark hallway toward his room. "Nay, _tithen pen_," he answered, raising his light eyes ahead of him again. "Trolls do not dwell in our forests. Fortunately, that is one affliction we do not suffer."_

_Aragorn's gray eyes narrowed with what appeared to be concern. This was not the first time he had heard hints of the dangers of Mirkwood since Legolas often alluded to them. "What is thewe?" he wondered._

_The king sighed as they stopped outside of the door of the child's room. The continuing Shadow was something he did not deem appropriate for one so young. "I do not believe you would like to hear about them so soon before sleep, Estel," he muttered._

_But Aragorn was not dissuaded as he reached forward and took one of Thranduil's ringed hands in both of his smaller ones. "But I wanna know, Thwan'dil!" he said. "I can handwe it. I pwomise."_

_Thranduil was startled by the boy's abruptness, his initial instinct to draw his hand away. But before he could, he glanced up when sudden movement caught his eye, seeing Erestor, Elrond's chief advisor, had appeared at the end of the hall. The dark-haired Elf began to approach them, but Thranduil raised his other hand to stop him, signifying he had control. Erestor obliged with a quick nod, and the king turned back to the child in front of him, who did not notice the strict advisor._

_"You say you can handle it?" When Aragorn nodded earnestly, Thranduil smiled slightly. "Orcs have made themselves comfortable in the forests around our home," he told him calmly, watching as the boy's gaze flickered slightly. "As well as spiders."_

_Aragorn looked up at him with confusion. "Spidews?" he repeated._

_Thranduil nodded in confirmation. "They are not the spiders you have here, _tithen pen_," he muttered. "They are much larger."_

_The child's face paled as Thranduil gently pulled his hand from Aragorn's tight grasp. "Time for sleep, Estel."_

_Aragorn appeared to rid himself of the fear of the larger spiders quickly, for he was now gazing at the king's hands with interest. "Do you have a Ring like _Ada_?" he asked, moving his gaze up to Thranduil's. "He weaws it sometimes. He says it hewps keep us safe."_

_Thranduil's gaze faltered slightly, but he forced another small smile. "Nay, Estel," he answered quietly. "The only purpose my rings serve is decoration."_

_"They awe not like _Ada's_?" Aragorn pressed, his gray eyes wide. When Thranduil shook his head, the child turned his attention to the king's hands again. "They shouwd be."_

_"Why is that, Estel?" Thranduil wondered curiously._

_Aragorn met his gaze, a broad grin on his face. "You would be so stwong!"_

_Thranduil could not stop the quiet chuckle that escaped from him as he looked down on the child. "Thus far, I have been able to keep the darkness away from my home and my people," he said. "That is all that matters to me."_

_If possible, Aragorn's gray eyes grew a little wider. "You fight them by youwsewf?"_

_"Not alone," Thranduil corrected. "I have some of the finest archers and patrols who fight by my side."_

_Aragorn thought this over for a moment before recognition entered his gaze. "Like Legowas!"_

_Thranduil smiled as he nodded. "My son is one of my finest archers," he confirmed._

_"He's the best!" Aragorn's smile was proud as he thought of his closest friend. "He's gonna teach me!"_

_"Is he now?" Thranduil chuckled again when Aragorn nodded with excitement. "Mayhap when you are older. Now, it is time for sleep."_

_Aragorn turned and pushed open the door behind him, disappearing inside his room. Thranduil turned his gaze to where Erestor was still watching from the end of the hall, seeing his stern features contained a slight smile, before he stepped in the doorway of the room to see how the child was doing. Aragorn had already changed into his light shirt for sleeping, his tunic from that day lying in the middle of the floor, and was finishing rinsing his face. The boy climbed into bed and covered himself up as Thranduil entered the room, watching as the king leaned over to pick up the discarded tunic from the floor._

_"Can you stay 'til _Ada_ comes, Thwan'dil?" Aragorn wondered, knowing his foster father would come soon to put him to bed._

_Thranduil paused as he straightened up again, noticing the slightly nervous glint that lingered in the child's gray eyes. The story must have still been on his mind. "If it is the trolls that concern you, Estel, I guarantee you have nothing to fret over," he said, folding the tunic neatly and setting it carefully over the chair of the desk under the window._

_"Not the twows, Thwan'dil," Aragorn replied, his eyes slightly wide once more. "The spidews!"_

Thranduil's smile broadened slightly, still uncertain of what had drawn him to this child after that night. Estel. _Hope_. Perhaps his name suited him well after all. Though what he did know was he was anticipating when the boy grew older and was able to pronounce his name correctly.

"Thank you, Thwan'dil!" Aragorn said, his smile lingering as he made himself comfortable on the chair. But when Thranduil raised an eyebrow, he cleared his throat. "... _Hannon le_!"

The Mirkwood king chuckled quietly. He understood the Common Tongue well enough, but over the few days he and Legolas had spent in Imladris, he noticed Elrond was always encouraging Aragorn to use the Sindarin he was learning so he would grow more comfortable with the language. "You are welcome, Estel."

Aragorn turned back to the table in front of him, his gray eyes quickly scanning over the sheets of paperwork that were spread out before both chairs. "Are you and _Ada_ awmost done?" he asked.

"Nay, _tithen pen_," Thranduil answered with a quiet sigh as he leaned on the back of the chair Aragorn had pilfered. "We will not be done tonight. Mayhap on the morrow."

"Oh." Aragorn glanced up at the king. "Awe you taking a bweak?"

"I was about to step out for some air," Thranduil confirmed.

Aragorn's face brightened up. "Can I come?" When Thranduil nodded once, the child smiled as he leapt off the chair and made his way toward the door. The king began to follow him, but he stopped when the door suddenly opened, nearly hitting the boy. Thranduil reached out and pulled him back a little, glancing up and seeing one of the house's cooks had entered with a glass of water in his hand.

"I apologize," the fair-haired Elf muttered, noticing Aragorn's startled expression. "I thought you would desire a refreshment after your deliberations, King Thranduil. If I had known Estel was here also, I would have brought another."

"I'm not thiwsty," Aragorn told him with a small smile.

The cook returned it before he handed the glass to Thranduil. The king took it and gave him a grateful smile, though his eyes narrowed slightly as he gazed at the Elf. He appeared slightly familiar, though he could not place from where. "_Hannon le_."

"'Tis my pleasure," the cook replied, returning the smile. "I do not wish for our guest to be uncomfortable during his stay."

Thranduil took a long sip of the water, glancing at the glass curiously for a moment before he turned his gaze back to the fair-haired Elf. "I appreciate this," he said, nodding to the water before taking another smaller sip. "It was needed after negotiations."

"I thought as much." The cook then nodded respectfully as he backed out of the room, and Aragorn watched as he was joined by a dark-haired Elf he recognized to be in Rivendell's patrol before the door closed.

The Elven king took his time finishing the last of the water in the glass, setting it on the table in front of his chair before he turned his attention back to the child. "Are you ready, _tithen pen_?" he asked.

Aragorn turned to look at Thranduil, a smile on his face. The king chuckled, pulling the door open and allowing the boy to step out first before he followed, shutting the door again behind them.

* * *

><p>Elrond set the glass of water he had been given by Aeglironion, one of the head cooks in his house, aside on his desk without taking a sip. He appreciated the refreshment, but he was not yet ready to have it as he turned his attention back to the sheet of paperwork in front of him. He and Thranduil had mutually decided to leave the remainder of the agreements until the following day after they both took some rest. The deliberations were long, and after some time spent outdoors watching his twin sons train with Legolas, he was forced to turn his attention to matters that needed to be seen to in his own realm.<p>

Then, he glanced up when he heard familiar laughter filtering through the open window behind him, and Elrond curiously turned in time to see Aragorn following Thranduil through the gardens below him as they made their way in the direction of the stables. A smile graced his fair features as he turned back to the paperwork on the desk before him, picking up his quill as he began filling out the financial report. He had been uncertain if the king of Mirkwood would be receptive to his foster son, but it appeared Aragorn had somehow managed to grow closer to Thranduil than either of them had anticipated over the course of their stay thus far.

The lord of Imladris rose to his feet when the ink he was using ran out, crossing the room to the closet. He pulled the door open and stepped inside, reaching up to one of the higher shelves and grasping a fresh container. Elrond stepped back into the room and shut the door behind him when he suddenly paused, the ink dropping from his hand and shattering to pieces on the floor as he closed his eyes tightly when flickers assaulted his mind.

_A horse. The sun setting. The forest outside Imladris. A child crying..._

"Elrond... Elrond!"

The Elf lord gasped quietly as his eyes snapped open, seeing he was now sitting on the floor leaning back against the closet door. Attempting to slow his rapid breathing, Elrond turned his gaze to his left where the voice had come from, recognizing the golden-haired Elf instantly.

"Glorfindel?"

The twice-born Balrog Slayer gave him a small smile. "Come, Elrond," he said gently, taking his arm and pulling the other Elf lord to his feet. Elrond did not protest as Glorfindel brought him around the broken glass and ink pooling on the floor over to his desk and carefully sat him down in his chair before sitting beside him on the desk. "I was passing by when I heard the glass shatter. What happened? Is something wrong?"

Elrond considered his answers to the advisor's questions for a long moment as his breathing slowed closer to its normal rate. With his gift of foresight, he was accustomed to being able to see hints of events before they occurred. However, though what he had seen had been vague, he could not rid himself of the feeling of dread that had settled in his heart.

"What did you see?" Glorfindel's eyes had narrowed with concern as he gazed into Elrond's paler face, seeming to understand what had happened. When he still got no response, he sighed and glanced at the desk, reaching for the glass of water that had been left there.

Then, Elrond suddenly hissed and put his hand to his head, his eyes shutting tightly when more images entered his mind.

_The sliver of a moon. Golden leaves taken by the wind. Aragorn lying curled beside a dark figure..._

Elrond forced his eyes to open, the action driving away the haunting images. The dread in his heart had only increased, and he knew then that something was wrong. His foster son was in danger.

Glorfindel's hand had paused at the other Elf lord's gasp, but once he saw he had regained himself, he continued reaching for the water. As soon as his fingertips touched the cool glass, he was once again stopped by Elrond's hand wrapping around his wrist.

"I do not need it," the lord of Imladris murmured when the golden-haired warrior's confused eyes found his, slowly releasing his wrist as he leaned back in the chair. He was silent for another long moment before he rose to his feet and walked to the window, his intense gaze scanning the gardens beneath him. Both Thranduil and Aragorn were not to be found.

Elrond then glanced behind him when a gentle hand landed on his shoulder, raising his eyes up to Glorfindel's concerned ones. "What did you see, _mellon-nín_?" the advisor asked quietly.

Sighing, Elrond turned back to the window, his gaze resting on the sun as it continued to set. The feeling of dread remained as strong as ever.

_Ion-nín..._

* * *

><p>"Can I come too, Thwan'dil? I haven't been out today."<p>

Thranduil glanced down at Aragorn as he finished preparing his horse. There was some daylight left, and he desired to get a little riding in before he rested for another day of deliberating. He had been anticipating some time in solitude, but he could not deny the pleading look in the child's wide, gray eyes. Sighing, the king took Aragorn and carefully lifted him up so he was sitting in front of the saddle before he climbed up behind him and took the reins. The boy smiled with excitement.

"I haven't been on a howse ride for a long time!" he told the Elf. "Not since _Ada_ took me last."

"'Tis only going to be a short ride, _tithen pen_," Thranduil said as he began to guide the horse forward. "We will have to return before sundown."

"Awl right!" Aragorn did not appear to mind the length of time they would be out in the forest, merely excited that he had the chance to be out with his newfound friend.

Thranduil smiled slightly despite himself as they left the stables, but then he slowed his horse to a stop when a couple more approached him from their right. Aragorn looked at the fair-haired Mirkwood guards as they stopped nearby with a wary gaze.

"We will accompany you, _hír-nín_," one stated.

Aragorn turned to look up at the king. "Why do they have to come?" he asked.

Thranduil sighed, knowing it was regulation he had a couple guards accompany him wherever he went. However, that did not mean he thought it was necessary now. "They need to ensure you are safe, Estel," he answered.

"But you can pwotect me," Aragorn replied, glancing down at the sword on Thranduil's hip. "And _Ada's _Ring keeps this pwace safe."

The Elven king saw the determination in the child's eyes when they found his again, but before he could bring himself to argue with him, Thranduil looked up when more footsteps approached. Aragorn followed his gaze, watching as the guard he had seen with the cook earlier drew near them.

"I have set up our patrol in the forest," the dark-haired Elf announced, stopping beside the king's white horse. "If you desire a ride before sundown, you may go without worry." He turned to the fair-haired Mirkwood Elves, bowing slightly with respect. "Amonost, guard of Imladris."

Thranduil nodded once before he turned to his own guards who still lingered near. "We will not go far," he assured them.

The fair-haired guards appeared hesitant to let their king leave without them, but when they received a reassuring nod from the Rivendell guard, they relented. "All right, _hír-nín_," the one who had spoken first muttered. "But we will remain close until you return."

"_Hannon le_." Thranduil nodded to them once as well before he urged his horse forward. Sometimes, he felt the need for solitude without his guards, and though Aragorn rode with him, it would not be as unpleasant as their hovering.

Amonost watched as Thranduil and Aragorn disappeared into the trees, the archers from Mirkwood lingering near the gate as they had promised. He then turned his back on them, a slight smirk appearing on his fair face as he walked back toward the house of Elrond.

**Author's Note**: And that's the end of chapter one. More of a setup chapter, so the excitement will pick up soon. Thanks for reading! Your reviews are much appreciated, just no flames please. Thanks!


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer**: Those you recognize belong to Tolkien. I do not own them. Those you do not recognize belong to me.

**Summary**: Gaining the friendship of a mortal child was not something Thranduil expected on his trip to Imladris with his son. But when secret plots result in grave consequences, the boy may be the king's one hope of survival.

**Author's Note**: Much thanks to **The Pearl Maiden**. **Gwedhiel0117**, **EmpressHimiko**, **Elven Warrior Princess**, and **doreenthatshot** for your reviews! I'm glad you guys liked the first chapter! Hopefully this one won't disappoint. Let's see what er... trouble, Thranduil and Aragorn get into, shall we? As a reminder, no slash whatsoever between any of the characters. Enjoy!

Elvish:

_ada_- father_  
>tithen pen<em>- little one  
><em>daro<em>- stop/halt  
><em>muindor<em>- brother  
><em>ion-nín<em>- my son  
><em>penneth<em>- young one

_Chapter 2_

Aragorn smiled broadly as Thranduil carefully maneuvered his horse through the trees, gazing up at the higher branches curiously. He had lost track of time since they had left Rivendell, though since the sun was steadily getting lower in the sky as the shadows lengthened, he knew it would not be long before they would have to return.

Thranduil moved his intense gaze to the forest around them, his light eyes narrowing slightly as he blinked a couple times. The Imladris guard had assured them he had set the patrol for the night, and he was certain they would have seen at least a hint of their presence. But there had been nothing. The trees were still.

"Ewwadan, Ewohir, and _Ada _took me on a picnic once," Aragorn said, running his small hand through the horse's light mane. "We went out by the wat'fawl. Do you wanna see the wat'fawl, Thwan'dil?"

The king took a moment to answer, unable to rid himself of the sudden feeling of dread that gripped his heart. "I do not think we will have time to see the waterfall, Estel," Thranduil finally replied, shaking his head a bit when his vision began to blur. "The sun is nearly set."

Though slightly disappointed, Aragorn nodded before he glanced up at the Elf with a smile. "Next time!" But then, concern crossed the child's face. "Awe you awl right, Thwan'dil? Your face is pawe."

Thranduil nodded, though it was not how he felt. A dull pain had been persisting in his temples for the better part of the ride, but it had only steadily increased to a point where he could no longer ignore it. His vision was continually unsteady and was beginning to darken, and a burning sensation was making its presence known in his stomach as his breath came with a bit more difficulty. Something was wrong. The Elven king hoped he would be able bring his horse back to Imladris before the symptoms became too overwhelming, though he knew a member of the patrol in the forest would be able to aid them if he could not.

But then, Thranduil's heart sank. He knew where his sudden dread was coming from.

There was no patrol.

"Thwan'dil?" Aragorn now appeared to be nervous as he looked up at the slightly paler king.

However, Thranduil forced a small smile as he slowed his horse to a stop. "What say you to going back, Estel?" he asked. "'Tis growing late."

Aragorn looked at the Elf for a long moment before he nodded, turning to look ahead of them. Thranduil sighed quietly as he turned his horse around, speeding its pace a little as they rode back toward Imladris. The king was unsure where these symptoms were coming from, though he was all too familiar with them. He remembered when he had been prince of Greenwood the Great when there had been an assassination attempt on his father, who had suffered the same ailments after being struck by a poisoned dart. This was also not the first time Thranduil had felt these symptoms, for he had once been struck by an Orc's poisoned arrow during a battle in the forest of Mirkwood.

But this time, these ailments had come without warning. There was no poisoned dart or arrow, and the king was unsure where he could have come in contact with it. Unless...

Thranduil shook his head, his thoughts unclear as the sharp pain throbbing in his temples slowly spread to behind his eyes, causing his vision to violently sway. His head was burning, as was his stomach, and he could no longer catch his breath without effort. He tightened his ringed fingers around his horse's reins. The child must be returned to Imladris.

Aragorn glanced over his shoulder when he felt Thranduil slump forward a little and heard his harsher breathing, his eyes widening with horror. Pain was clearly seen in the king's fair but stern features, his eyes closed tightly as a thin layer of sweat appeared on his pale face. "Thwan'dil?"

The young, anxious voice caused Thranduil to open his eyes, but he found he could not focus on Aragorn's face. He swallowed before attempting a feeble smile. He could not continue. He whispered a quiet command in Elvish to his horse Aragorn couldn't understand before turning his attention to the child. "Ride on... _tithen pen_..."

"What..." But Aragorn's question ended in a gasp when Thranduil's eyes closed again before he slumped forward more, limply falling from the horse to the forest floor. "Thwan'dil!"

Aragorn then turned to the horse he was now riding alone, who had slowed down a little without the presence of its master but still continued on, getting his small fingers tangled in its fair mane. "Stop!" he said anxiously. "Stop!" But the command had no effect, and the boy quickly attempted to recall its Sindarin counterpart. "Uh... _daro_! _Daro_!"

The king's horse slowed to a stop, snorting once as it shook its head. Aragorn tightly held onto the saddle as he slid out of it, hanging at its side before he dropped to the ground. He grunted when he landed hard on his backside on the forest floor, a thin line of tears forming in his eyes from the impact. But then, he gasped when he remembered what had made him stop the horse to begin with, and he quickly got to his feet and ran as fast as his short legs could carry him back toward the fallen Elf.

"Thwan'dil!" The boy knelt beside Thranduil, who had landed on his side, and placed his hands on his arm, carefully turning him onto his back with a little difficulty. His panicked gray eyes quickly moved to the king's fair head, watching as a few of the golden leaves from his crown flowed through his hair before being taken by the light wind.

Aragorn then turned his attention to Thranduil's damp face, which had nearly lost all color aside from the flush that had settled in his cheeks. The five-year-old hesitantly reached forward and rested his hand on the king's forehead, quickly pulling it back when he felt the heat radiating from it. He was with fever. Something was wrong. Elves did not fall ill.

"Wake up, Thwan'dil!" Tears filled Aragorn's eyes when Thranduil's remained closed, and he lightly shook his arm. "Thwan'dil! Wake up!"

A quiet groan escaped from the king's throat as Thranduil's closed eyes narrowed slightly before they slowly opened. His weary, unfocused gaze found the child above him, and he attempted to give him a reassuring smile. "'Tis all right... Estel..." he muttered. "I will be..." The Elf's sentence trailed off when his eyes shut tightly again in a wince, his face paling even more as he clamped his arms around his midsection.

Aragorn watched nervously as Thranduil's tense body then relaxed, his eyes remaining closed and his breathing light and quick. He worried his bottom lip between his teeth, a couple tears leaking from his gray eyes. The child desperately longed for his foster father since he would know what to do. Elrond would know how to care for the ailing Elven king while he did not.

Then, frantically trying to remember what the Elf lord would do for those he tended to, Aragorn reached forward and placed two fingers lightly on the side of Thranduil's neck. He had seen Elrond do this same action many times, and though he did not know its purpose, the rapid, pulsating rhythm he felt beneath his fingertips could not have been good.

"Pwease wake up, Thwan'dil," Aragorn whispered, lowering his hand again as he searched the king's face for any indication he could hear him. Thranduil stirred slightly, distress crossing his pale face as he turned his head slightly in the child's direction. But he did not open his eyes.

Aragorn felt his tears roll more freely down his cheeks as his thin frame shook before he raised his gaze and anxiously looked at the darkening trees around them. "Hewp!" he called in a slightly trembling voice, taking one of the Elf's ringed hands in his smaller one as he searched for any sign of the patrol that was supposed to be in the forest. Why hadn't they come? "Hewp us!"

But no one came. It was with dread the child realized they were alone.

* * *

><p>Elrond pushed open the door of his house and stepped out onto the porch, stopping at the top of the steps. His intense eyes scanned what was happening before him, moving from Glorfindel preparing the patrol to guard the forest that night to Erestor questioning the guards from Mirkwood. The feeling of dread had not lifted from his heart, and when the Elf lord leaned on the railing as his dark eyes gazed out at the trees ahead of him, it only increased.<p>

Something was terribly wrong, and he feared for the safety of his foster son and friend.

"The guards were told they were able to remain here, Lord Elrond."

Elrond moved his gaze to his chief advisor as the dark-haired Elf walked up the staircase to join him. "They told King Thranduil they would remain by the gate for him and Estel to return," Erestor finished as he stopped beside his lord.

"Who told them?" Elrond asked quietly, his eyes narrowing slightly. These events already felt suspicious, though not on the part of the Mirkwood guards.

"Amonost," Erestor answered. "He assured them he had set the patrol in the forest, and they would be all right if they returned by sundown."

Elrond slowly turned to look back out at the forest as he mulled these words over. Though Amonost had been a trusted soldier in his forces for many years, he was not one of the few who had authority to prepare a patrol. He did not understand why he would deceive the Mirkwood king and his guards about such a crucial detail.

Unless he wanted Thranduil and Aragorn to be alone.

Erestor sighed as he looked up at the Elf lord with concern. "Why would he do this, Lord Elrond?" he wondered in nearly a whisper. "Do you suppose King Thranduil and Estel are safe?"

Elrond took a long moment to consider his answer before he simply shook his head. "I know not," he murmured before he stepped away from the railing as authority entered his tone once more. "Find Amonost. I want him apprehended to question."

"Aye, Lord Elrond."

The lord of Imladris hurried down the steps toward where Glorfindel was finishing sending the patrol into the forest. He could not forget the flickers he had seen, and he had the feeling the actions of Amonost had caused them. Elrond did not know why the soldier had done what he had, though he was concerned about the consequences.

"Glorfindel!"

The golden-haired warrior looked up as the last guard disappeared through the gate, taking a couple steps toward the other Elf lord as he stopped in front of them. "Aye, Elrond?" he asked.

"I fear there has been deceit from one of our own guards," Elrond answered quietly, watching as Glorfindel's eyes narrowed slightly. He understood his friend's confusion, for he had all their defenses under his command. "King Thranduil and Estel could be in danger. I wish for you to accompany the patrol and search for them with all haste."

Glorfindel nodded once, but before he could respond, both he and Elrond turned when cheerful laughter reached their ears. Elladan, Elrohir, and Legolas were walking to the house from the training grounds, dirt smudged on their smiling faces as they discussed who had bested who in their sword work. However, their bright demeanors faded as soon as they saw the matching grim expressions on the Elf lords' faces.

"Is everything all right, _Ada_?" Elladan wondered when they slowed to a stop. Elrohir and Legolas appeared uneasy.

Elrond gestured for the three younger Elves to come forward, and the older twin led the way to him and Glorfindel. The lord of Imladris' dark eyes landed on the prince first. "Your father and Estel went for a ride in the forest some time ago," he said, his tone as soft as before. "'Tis almost nightfall, and they have not returned. I feel something may be wrong. I would like you to accompany Glorfindel to search for them."

Though Elrond's tone was steady, worry crossed Legolas' fair face as he exchanged a concerned look with the twins. He quickly followed after Glorfindel with Elladan toward the stables to retrieve their horses, but Elrohir was stopped by a hand on his arm. The younger twin looked up into his father's tense expression with confusion.

"_Ada_?"

Elrond met his light gaze with a quiet sigh. "I need you to remain here with me, Elrohir," he muttered, watching as Glorfindel, Elladan, and Legolas quickly mounted their horses and rode through the gate. "We must prepare a room."

* * *

><p>Aragorn reached a hand out and carefully brushed some light hair out of Thranduil's deathly pale face before pulling his small cloak closer around the king's slightly shivering frame. Night had fallen, and though the Elf had briefly regained consciousness a couple times, he had not stirred since the sun had set. The only indication he still lived was his slight trembling. The child sighed when he placed his hand carefully on Thranduil's forehead again, feeling it was still as hot as it had been, before he wrapped his small arms around himself and shivered once. The night was cold, and though he desired the slight warmth his cloak could provide, his friend needed it more.<p>

Then, Aragorn gasped as he quickly looked up when a quiet noise reached his ears, quickly looking at the trees around them. He saw nothing other than the king's horse grazing nearby, though he did not know what could be hiding in the shadows. There had been many times where he had heard his foster brothers or Glorfindel speak of Orcs that would sometimes draw near their borders. Were they lingering in the darkness now? What if trolls were eyeing them from the shelter of the trees?

The five-year-old whimpered when he heard the noise again, almost sounding like a twig breaking, and tears formed in his gray eyes as he curled up beside Thranduil, resting his head on his arm as he listened to the Elf's light, shallow breathing. The sound from the trees appeared to draw nearer, and Aragorn tightly closed his eyes as he grabbed onto the king.

"Wake up, Thwan'dil," he whispered anxiously, a few tears escaping down his cheeks. "Pwease. I'm scawed, Thwan'dil. Pwease wake up..."

Then, Aragorn cried out with fear and flinched when a hand lightly touched his arm, hiding his face in the sleeve of the Elf's light tunic. "No!"

"Estel."

Surprised by the gentle voice, Aragorn opened his eyes and looked up, finding an anxious looking dark-haired Elf above them. He immediately recognized him as a soldier in Rivendell's patrol. The guard held his arms out, and the child quickly moved into his embrace as his tears came more freely.

"Lord Glorfindel! Come with haste!"

Aragorn gasped quietly at the sound of the familiar name, and a small sob escaped from him when the golden-haired Elf rode into view. "Gwowfy!"

Glorfindel brought his horse to a stop and leapt to the ground in one fluid motion, running forward and picking up the boy into his arms as Aragorn ran toward him. "Oh, thank the Valar," he muttered, holding the trembling five-year-old close to him for a moment before he started to look him over. "Are you hurt, Estel?"

"N-no..." Aragorn sobbed, shaking his head as the twice-born warrior carefully wiped some of his tears away before more quickly took their place. His gray eyes moved to behind his friend when Elladan and Legolas stopped their horses near Glorfindel's and hurried over. "B-but... Th-Thwan'dil..."

The golden-haired Elf quickly glanced at where the member of his patrol was kneeling beside who he now recognized to be the Mirkwood king. Taking a deep breath and forcing a smile to hopefully calm the shaken Aragorn slightly, Glorfindel turned to the two younger Elves with him. "Take Estel," he said.

Elladan immediately removed his cloak from his shoulders and wrapped it around Aragorn as he took his young foster brother into his arms before Glorfindel hurried over to Thranduil's still form with a panicked Legolas close behind. The child wrapped his arms tightly around the older twin's neck as a couple more sobs escaped from him, and Elladan gently rubbed his back in an attempt to calm him.

"Shh, Estel... Slow your breathing."

Aragorn sniffed, but his tears continued to fall. Elladan sighed, holding him close as he rested his chin on top of the boy's dark hair. "What happened, Estel?" he asked, his gray eyes moving to the trees around them warily. "You were not attacked, were you?"

"N-no..." Aragorn shook his head. "I d-don't kn-know..."

Elladan worried his bottom lip between his teeth, not knowing what could have happened to the proud king he had grown close to. "Shh, Estel, it will be all right. You were brave, _muindor_." Aragorn's arms only tightened around his neck slightly in response.

Glorfindel carefully picked up Thranduil's limp body into his arms and hurried toward his horse. Elladan's eyes narrowed slightly when he noticed how pale the older Elf's face was, his concern for his friend increasing. "We must make for Imladris with all haste," the golden-haired warrior muttered as he passed them.

Legolas followed at a bit of a slower pace with the dark-haired guard who had found his father, appearing a bit shaken. Aragorn looked up when the prince neared him and Elladan, and another quiet sob escaped from him. "Legowas?"

"Aye, Estel?" Legolas stopped beside the older twin, looking down on the child with concern.

Aragorn attempted to wipe his tears away, though it was a futile effort as he gazed back at his closet friend. "I... I'm s-sowwy, Le-Legowas..."

Pain crossed Legolas' fair face at the boy's words, and he placed his hand lightly on the back of Aragorn's head as he gently pulled it down to his shoulder to offer some comfort, closing his eyes as the child's quiet sobs echoed around them.

* * *

><p>Elrohir paced nervously on the porch of his home, Elrond's dark eyes following his every step. Finally, the younger twin came to a stop and turned back to the Elf lord. "Do you truly feel there has been some deceit, <em>Ada<em>?" he asked. Amonost had been one of the guards who had trained him and Elladan in their younger years, and he did not want to believe him capable of treachery.

Elrond slowly shook his head. "I know not, _ion-nín_," he answered quietly. "It is my hope to learn more once the guards return. I pray no ill has befallen Estel or Thranduil."

Clearly agitated, Elrohir began pacing once more. Elrond sighed and closed his eyes for a moment, concentrating on settling his own fears. The image of Aragorn curled on the ground beside a dark figure was haunting him, and he hoped and prayed that his foster son and friend would be returned safely.

Then, the Elf lord opened his eyes again when the sound of approaching horses reached his ears, watching as the guards rode through the gate. Elrohir immediately rushed down the steps toward them, but Elrond hesitated when Glorfindel, Legolas, and Elladan followed close behind, getting as close to the house as they could.

Fear gripped his heart when he saw Thranduil, pale and seemingly lifeless, riding in front of the twice-born warrior and Aragorn curled up in a cloak before his eldest son.

Elrond watched as Legolas and Elrohir helped to carefully lower the Mirkwood king off the horse, Glorfindel leaping down and taking him back before he hurried toward where he was waiting. "He is with fever," the golden-haired Elf explained as he quickly took the staircase with Elrohir and the prince close behind. "I know not what ails him."

"Elrohir will bring you to the room we have prepared," Elrond said, keeping his tone steady. "I will be there shortly."

"Aye, Elrond."

Once Glorfindel, Legolas, and Elrohir rushed Thranduil inside, Elrond turned his attention back to Elladan, who was walking toward him at a bit slower pace. His worried eyes landed on his youngest foster son, whose head rested against the older twin's chest with his eyes closed. He could not discern if Aragorn had suffered any injuries, which concerned him most.

However, Elladan's small smile put his mind somewhat at ease. "He is fine, _Ada_," he muttered when he stopped in front of the Elf lord, looking down at the child sadly. "But he is frightened. He was sobbing until he fell asleep on the ride here."

Elrond gazed down on the boy with concern as he reached out and lightly ran his fingers over Aragorn's damp cheek, stained with tears. "Oh, child," he whispered, carefully pulling him into his own arms. "What has happened?"

Elladan slowly shook his head. "I know not," he said. "Estel said they were not attacked. But Thranduil..."

"Must be seen to," Elrond finished for him, authority entering his tone once more. "Come. I will have you bring Estel to his room."

Elrond began to lead the way back up the staircase, but the gentle motion roused Aragorn, who looked around with confusion. "_Ada_?"

"Shh, Estel," the Elf lord soothed. "You are safe now, _ion-nín_."

Aragorn was calmed slightly by his foster father's deep, gentle voice, but then, he gasped quietly as he quickly looked back up at him. "I twied, _Ada_. I reawwy did..."

Elrond paused, looking down on Aragorn with a slightly raised eyebrow. "What do you mean, Estel?" he asked.

"I... I twied to hewp Thwan'dil," Aragorn answered as he clutched the Elf's light tunic, tears forming in his eyes as his voice rose a little. "I didn't know what to do... He got sick, and I did what I couwd... Don't be mad, _Ada_. I twied..."

The lord of Imladris glanced at Elladan, who looked back at him with the same slightly confused look. Thranduil had fallen ill? "I am not angry, Estel," he muttered, wiping away the tears that had escaped from the boy's eyes. "You did well."

Aragorn looked up at him with surprise. "I... I did?"

Elrond nodded, giving him a small smile. "Aye," he confirmed, tenderly brushing back some of the child's wild dark hair from his face. "But tell me about how Thranduil fell ill, _penneth_."

"We wewe riding in the twees, and I asked him if he wanted to see the wat'fawl," Aragorn explained, sniffing as he rubbed his eyes. "He said we didn't have time, but he looked pawe. Then he couwdn't bweathe wewl, he towd me to keep going, and he fewl off his howse. I touched his neck like you do, and thewe was a fast beat. I don't know what it was. And he didn't wake up, and his head was hot, and I think his stom'ch huwt, and... and... and..."

"Shh." Elrond gently pulled Aragorn's head down to his shoulder, lightly kissing the top of his dark hair. "Calm yourself, Estel. Breathe, _penneth_." He was greatly concerned for Thranduil, for shortness of breath, fever, and stomach pain were not ordinary afflictions. The Elf lord held him close and rubbed the child's back as he looked back at Elladan, and by the look in his son's matching gray eyes, the same thought had crossed his mind.

The ailments Aragorn had described were common symptoms of poison.

**Author's Note**: So, they were found, but that doesn't mean they're out of hot water yet. Poor Thranduil and Aragorn. I love them, I really do, lol. Anyway, if you would like to give little Aragorn a hug right about now (**doreenthatshot **and **AnaOfRohan** have already done so), mention it in your reviews and I will pass them along! Lol! Hope you liked the second chapter! The third will be up soon. Your reviews are much appreciated. Thanks!


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer**: Those you recognize belong to Tolkien. I do not own them. Those you do not recognize belong to me.

**Summary**: Gaining the friendship of a mortal child was not something Thranduil expected on his trip to Imladris with his son. But when secret plots result in grave consequences, the boy may be the king's one hope of survival.

**Author's Note**: I'm thrilled with the response this story has gotten so far! I'm just thinking back to the small idea this started out as and how much the story has grown since. On that note, I take back my chapter one author's note. This will be more than four chapters now, probably either six or seven depending on how things pan out. Anyway, Huge _hannon le_ out to **EmpressHimiko**, **The Pearl Maiden**, **Joshua Nenya**, **Elven Warrior Princess**, **Gwedhiel0117**, and **doreenthatshot** for your reviews! Aragorn appreciates all the hugs and love he's been shown, lol! Poor little guy needed it after that last chapter. And on that note, let's see how he and Thwan'dil are faring, shall we? Once again, absolutely _no_ slash between any of the characters. Read, review, but no flames please. Enjoy!

Elvish:

_penneth_- young one  
><em>ada<em>- father  
><em>hannon le<em>- thank you  
><em>mellon-nín<em>- my friend

_Chapter 3_

Elrond dipped a cloth in the bowl of cold water sitting on the desk beside the bed, wringing it out before dabbing the pale, sweat-drenched face of its golden-haired occupant and resting it lightly on his burning forehead. Thranduil had not stirred since he had been brought into the room the Elf lord and Elrohir had prepared, and Elrond feared for the king's life if he could not discover the source of what was afflicting him.

"Poison? I do not understand," Legolas muttered from where he sat on the bed beside Thranduil, his blue eyes filled with worry. "What reason would someone have to poison my father?"

Elrohir glanced up from where he was preparing some fever reducing herbs and athelas, his gaze lingering on his father nervously. Elrond sighed as he slowly shook his head, a hint of concern flickering in his gaze. "I know not, _penneth_," he replied, brushing a few loose strands of his dark hair back from his face as he looked at Thranduil intently. "Though I must know its cause if I am to counteract its effects."

_If I am not too late already..._

But Elrond refused to accept that dreaded thought. He would discover the cause. Recalling how Aragorn had mentioned Thranduil had experienced stomach pain, the Elf lord set his hand on the king's abdomen and applied slight pressure, attempting to find where the affected area was. A quiet gasp of pain escaped from the light-haired Elf, and Legolas moved closer to his ailing father and took his ringed hand securely in his when clear distress appeared in his features. The prince reached his other hand out and brushed some fair strands of hair back from Thranduil's even paler face, concerned by his quickened breathing.

"I am here, _Ada_."

"Legolas, has your father eaten anything other than when we rested for lunch?" Elrond asked, moving his gray eyes to the younger Elf. He had eaten the same meal as the king, and since he did not suffer from the same symptoms, he was confident the soup, bread, and wine they had was not the source. From what he could gather from where the Mirkwood monarch appeared to feel the greatest amount of pain, the poison had entered his system more recently.

"Not... not that I am aware of," Legolas answered, meeting Elrond's gaze as he continued to run his hand through Thranduil's hair in a calming motion. "I was with Elladan and Elrohir after lunch. Estel went to see my father, and he was with him more than I."

Elrond sighed, glancing out into the hallway where Elladan was sitting with Aragorn curled on his lap. The child was wrapped in his own cloak now, and though his tears had stopped some time ago, the fear still lingered in his eyes. The Elf lord had suggested his young faster son take some rest, but the boy was adamant in hearing some news of his newfound friend. Then, his attention moved to the younger twin when Elrohir approached, handing him the small bowl of herbs.

"Here, _Ada_."

The Elf lord swiftly sat on the bed across from Legolas, gently lifting Thranduil's head before bringing the bowl to his lips to coax him to drink. At first, the king unconsciously choked on the semi-sweet liquid, and the prince turned to the healer nervously. However, Elrond continued with patience gained from countless years of experience, waiting until Thranduil swallowed the rest of it before taking the bowl back and carefully laying his head back down.

"This should help to soothe the fever's effects," he muttered, rising to his feet and setting the bowl on the table beside the water. "As well as provide some temporary relief."

Legolas nodded, turning his attention back to his father, who was once again lying still while his breathing, though not as quick, was as shallow and irregular as it had been before. His gaze faltered slightly as he studied Thranduil's pale, empty face. There had been many times he could recall where he had returned home with some injury the king would tend to, but never had he envisioned he would be sitting at his father's bedside, merely able to watch as some ill tormented him while another fought for his life. His father was the strong, proud king of Mirkwood. This affliction did not suit him. Not the one who selflessly cared for him in his times of need. Not his father.

The prince tightened his hand around Thranduil's. "Hold on, _Ada_."

Elrohir watched Legolas sadly before he approached Elrond. "Mayhap we should speak with Estel," he suggested in a whisper. "There is a chance he could provide some insight. You know this, _Ada_."

Elrond sighed, hesitance crossing his features as he lowered his gaze. "The child is still frightened," he replied just as quietly. "He could not give us clear answers."

The younger twin reached out and set his hand on his father's arm, waiting until Elrond met his gaze before he continued. "What other chance does Thranduil have?"

The Elf lord gazed into Elrohir's intense gray eyes for a long moment before looking away again, unable to argue his point. His gaze landed on Legolas as he watched over his father before looking out at his eldest son and the mortal child sitting in the hallway together. Elrohir was correct.

What other chance did Thranduil have?

* * *

><p>Aragorn focused on fidgeting with the corner of his cloak, his eyes narrowed slightly in concentration. His gaze then moved up to his older brother's face, seeing it was impassive while his intense gray eyes rested on the room across from them as its occupants worked to heal the slowly dying king. By their grave expressions, it was not going well. Whimpering quietly, the child clutched Elladan's deep blue tunic.<p>

"What is the matter, Estel?" the older twin asked, placing his hand comfortingly on top of his dark hair.

"Is Thwan'dil gonna be awl right, Ewwadan?" Aragorn wondered quietly, worry crossing his youthful features.

Elladan's gaze faltered as he sighed, unsure of what to say. From what he could hear from his father and brother, Thranduil was truly suffering from some sort of poison, and time was running out to find its source. Fortunately, he was spared from answering when near silent footsteps approached, and he and Aragorn both watched as Glorfindel came around the corner. In his hand was a glass of water.

"This was given to your father earlier," the golden-haired warrior explained with a small smile as he passed them. "I suspect he would appreciate it now."

Elladan returned the smile as Glorfindel entered the room, gazing on the Mirkwood king with concern before he offered Elrond the glass. Aragorn watched them for a moment as they talked together in quiet tones, but then his gray eyes widened slightly when his foster father reached out and took it.

_The fair-haired cook handed Thranduil a glass of water. The king took a small sip, looking at the glass curiously. Thranduil set the empty glass on the table..._

Aragorn gasped quietly when he saw Elrond slowly begin to bring the glass to his lips as he turned back to Thranduil. He pushed himself out of Elladan's hold and ran across the hall as quickly as he could before he entered the room.

"Estel!" Elladan shouted after him, but his call went unheeded. He rose to his feet, hurrying after his younger brother.

"_Ada_, don't dwink it!" Aragorn said anxiously, reaching out to the Elf lord as he approached him and Glorfindel.

Elrond lowered his arm, looking at Aragorn with surprise while Legolas and Elrohir turned to him curiously. Since he had caught his foster father off guard, the child managed to snatch the glass from his hand, raising it above his head as he prepared to throw it on the floor. However, Elrond quickly reached out and immediately took it back to prevent it from being smashed, narrowing his eyes down on the boy.

"What is the meaning of this, Estel?" he demanded, taken aback by his disruptive behavior. The child he was raising knew better.

Aragorn was not dissuaded as he stood on his toes and reached out for the glass in Elrond's hand again, though he kept it out of range of his small, grasping fingers. "Don't dwink it, _Ada_!" he repeated urgently, meeting the lord of Imladris' stern gaze. "It's bad!"

"Bad?" Elrond's anger slowly turned to confusion as he looked down at the glass he held.

"Aye, _Ada_!" Aragorn told him, ignoring the wondering looks he was receiving from his brothers, Glorfindel, and Legolas. "Thwan'dil dwank one eawlier and got sick!"

Glorfindel's eyes narrowed as he looked down at the seemingly harmless glass of water in the other Elf lord's hand. Elrond quickly raised the glass to his eyes, studying the contents carefully for a long moment before his eyes widened slightly. He quickly handed it to Glorfindel before kneeling in front of Aragorn, pulling him onto his lap when the child moved into his embrace.

"I need you to tell me what happened, Estel," Elrond muttered, brushing back some of the boy's dark hair. "Were you there when Thranduil was given a glass of water?" When his foster son nodded, he continued. "When? Try to remember, _penneth_."

"Um..." Aragorn bit his lip, looking up when Elladan, Elrohir, and Legolas gathered around them. "Befowe we went for a howse ride. You wewe taking a bweak fwom your dew... dewib..."

Elrond glanced up at Glorfindel as Aragorn continued to figure out the word for the meeting he and Thranduil had been involved with for the past few days. "Around the time Aeglironion gave me the glass," he muttered when the golden-haired warrior looked up from the water in his hand. He then turned back to his foster son, setting his hand on top of his head to stop his mumblings. "What color hair did the cook who gave Thranduil his water have?" Aeglironion had been an occupant of his house for many years, ever since he had arrived from his previous home, and served as one of their realm's most respected cooks. Now, however, it appeared as though he was responsible for the poisoning of the Mirkwood king, and almost him as well.

Aragorn cast his gray eyes up to Glorfindel. "Like Gwowfy's," he said.

Sighing, Elrond quickly kissed Aragorn's forehead. "_Hannon le_, Estel," he whispered, setting the child on the floor before he swiftly rose to his feet and turned to the other Elves in the room with them. "Elrohir, check the room where Thranduil and I held our negotiations. I want the glass he was given. Then search the kitchens for anything Aeglironion could have used to prepare his poison. We must find him. I want him detained. Legolas, you also."

The prince appeared ready to protest, but Elrond's eyes narrowed slightly, offering no room for argument. The Elf lord did not like taking him from Thranduil's side when he was in such critical condition, but he could feel the nearly overwhelming worry in the younger Elf, and for his own sake, he needed to be occupied with something that would aid the ailing king. With one last fearful glance at his father and hesitant look at Elrond, Legolas followed the younger twin out of the room and out of sight.

Elrond then turned back to Glorfindel, who quickly brought the water closer to inspect it before he nodded once. "Tainted," he muttered in confirmation. Venom laced the twice-born warrior's tone, reflecting his disbelief that someone else they had trusted could be capable of treachery.

The other Elf lord sighed as his gaze rested on the still Thranduil, grateful that he at least had a better sense of when the king had been poisoned as well as the source so he could create an antidote. But what he did not understand was what reason Aeglironion would have for attempting to murder both him and the Mirkwood king. He desperately attempted to recall all he knew of the fair-haired cook, though for the life of him, he could not think of anything that would explain his traitorous actions.

Then, Elrond quickly turned to the open door while Glorfindel and Elladan did the same. Erestor was leaning against the doorframe, but something was wrong. He was nearly doubled over, his face was paler than normal, and his hand was pressed firmly against his left side. "I... I found Amonost... Lord Elrond..."

Elrond took a step toward him, his eyes widening in horror when his chief advisor began to collapse. Glorfindel pressed the poisoned water into Elladan's hands before he rushed forward, catching Erestor's thin frame in his arms before he could hit the floor.

"Ewestor!" Aragorn cried fearfully from where he stood beside his foster father, kept in place by the Elf lord's firm hand on his shoulder.

"Remove your hand, _mellon-nín_," Glorfindel said quietly, noticing what he knew was blood on his friend's fingers.

However, Erestor shook his head despite the pain that crossed his features. "Amonost is... preparing to flee," he replied between his gasps for air, looking up at the twice-born Elf anxiously. "Do not... worry for me. Go... now."

Anger flared in Glorfindel's eyes as he quickly looked up at Elladan, who nodded in understanding before he set the glass of water on the small table beside Thranduil's bed and hurried out of the room to detain the guard in question. The golden-haired Elf then effortlessly picked Erestor up into his arms and gently set him down in the cushioned chair under the window, his gaze saddening when the other Elf winced at the motion. He reached out and wrapped his hand securely around the thin advisor's for a moment, earning a feeble smile from Erestor as his slightly trembling fingers tightened around his friend's when he met the twice-born warrior's gaze and saw the clear outrage in his intense blue orbs. Glorfindel waited until Elrond was beside him before he released Erestor's hand and ran out of the room himself, drawing his sword as he hurried after Elladan to find Amonost.

"What happened?" the lord of Imladris asked anxiously, kneeling before his advisor as he took his thin wrist and carefully tried to pull his hand away from his side.

Erestor resisted for a moment, but Elrond was relentless, and he sighed as he allowed the other Elf to remove his hand. Elrond's eyes narrowed with concern when he saw the crimson staining his dark tunic, unsure of what he would find underneath it. "Amonost had... a hidden dagger..." Erestor explained as the Elf lord moved his gray eyes to his dark ones. "He became... suspicious when I told him... you wished to speak with him, and he... stabbed me before he... fled..."

Aragorn watched his strict friend for a moment with fearful tears forming in his eyes before he turned to the bed Thranduil was lying in. Poisoned water, deceitful cooks, and traitorous guards. It was too much for his mind to wrap around. A couple tears rolled down his cheeks as he struggled a little to climb up onto the bed and crawled over to Thranduil, wanting to check on him. The flush that had once tinted his friend's cheeks had lightened, and he was not quite so pale.

But when he reached out and touched the king's forehead, Aragorn gasped when the golden-haired Elf began to stir. "_Ada_!" he shouted. "_Ada_!"

Elrond quickly turned away from where he was preparing bandages to the bed, hearing the quiet groan that escaped from Thranduil's throat as he moved toward consciousness. Once he got a determined nod from Erestor, he picked Aragorn up and set him aside before sitting beside the king in his place. The Elf lord placed a calming hand on the golden-haired Elf's arm when distress crossed his fair but often stern features as the child crawled closer to his foster father, watching as they were both rewarded with a pair of weary blue eyes.

"Calm yourself, _mellon-nín_," Elrond murmured, as Thranduil looked around the room with confusion. He was relieved to see the fever reducing herbs and athelas were having some effect, but he knew they would not be enough to completely counteract the poison wreaking havoc in his body. He prayed Elrohir and Legolas were able to find something in the kitchens, for the little herb that was diluted in his glass of water would not be enough to work with. "You are safe. My son will return soon, and I will be able to prepare an antidote that will aid you. For now, you must rest."

Thranduil's gaze passed over Aragorn before his eyes landed on Elrond, the confusion still lingering in them. "Le... Legolas..." Then, he winced slightly, one of his ringed hands moving down to his stomach. Elrond quickly stood and immediately began preparing some pain reducing herbs.

"Legowas wiwl come back, Thwan'dil," Aragorn said. "Soon. I pwomise."

For a moment, Thranduil appeared to be appeased by the child's words as he closed his eyes with a quiet sigh. But to Aragorn's surprise, they quickly opened again, and the king's brow furrowed slightly as he began to push himself up on his arm, the little color that had returned to his face quickly leaving it. "No... Legolas..."

Panicked, Aragorn reached his small hands out and set them on Thranduil's other arm in attempt to keep him from sitting up. "No, stay stiwl, Thwan'dil!"

Elrond quickly turned around once more, setting the small bowl down before he sat beside his foster son. "Easy," he cautioned, his hand causing the king to pause. "The poison still ails you, Thranduil. You must rest."

Thranduil met the Elf lord's gaze, and Elrond was surprised to see the anxious look in his weary eyes. "Legolas," he muttered. "Where is he?"

"Is Legowas in twoubwe?" Aragorn asked his foster father quietly.

"He and Elrohir are in the kitchens searching for what I need for the antidote," Elrond explained, noticing the king was a bit delirious as he placed his other hand lightly on Aragorn's arm to quiet him. "They will return shortly. Now, you must-!"

But Thranduil shook his head, catching the lord of Imladris off guard. "I must... find him..." He started trying to push himself up again, his hand reaching for the sword that was usually on his hip, but Elrond gently, though firmly, lowered him back to the pillow.

"Legolas is with Elrohir," the Elf lord attempted to reason with him, his stern gaze ensuring the king would not attempt to stand again. "He is in no danger, _mellon-nín_."

Aragorn watched the two Elves for a moment longer before he jumped to the floor, greatly concerned for the prince. What had Thranduil so worried? He moved his gray eyes to Erestor, who was also watching the scene before him with intense dark eyes, his hand once again over his left side. Feeling the child's eyes on him, the chief advisor held his other arm out, and Aragorn immediately climbed up onto Erestor's knee and leaned against his uninjured side while the Elf's arm wrapped securely around him.

Once he was sure Thranduil would not attempt to leave the bed again, Elrond reached over to the small table and picked up the bowl containing the pain reducing herbs he had prepared. "Here," he said quietly, moving it closer to the king.

Thranduil eyed it warily before he took the bowl in his own hand and sat up a little, taking a cautious sip. Under the Elf lord's intense gaze, he finished it without complaint and handed it back once it was empty. Satisfied, Elrond set it back on the table before turning his attention back to the golden-haired Elf.

"Rest now," he told him, authority in his tone.

Unable to argue, Thranduil laid back against his pillow with a sigh, concern still clear in his gaze. Elrond's eyes narrowed slightly as he watched the king until he fell into a light, restless sleep before he slowly stood and made his way back to where Aragorn was sitting with Erestor. Whether the king's worry for his son was simply due to the poison in his system or not, a feeling of dread had once again settled on the Elf lord's heart, one that he could not shake as a dreaded thought crossed his mind.

Had he put Legolas and his own son in danger?

* * *

><p>"It was fortunate you were able to secure that glass, Elrohir."<p>

The younger twin smirked at the prince as they hurried down the hallway toward the kitchens. He and Legolas had reached the room where Elrond and Thranduil had been holding their negotiations for the past few days just as a cook was about to take the glass to wash. "I feel it would be safe to say it was my charm," Elrohir replied, his eyes gleaming.

Legolas chuckled quietly as they made their way down a flight of steps. "She did seem fond of you," he agreed.

Elrohir's smirk broadened. "I see no reason why she would not be." But then, the cheerful look waned when he noticed the worry that lingered in the fair-haired Elf's gaze. He sighed, setting his hand on Legolas' arm to pause him once they reached the bottom of the staircase. "Are you all right?"

"Aye," Legolas murmured, though his tone lacked conviction when he was unable to meet the younger twin's concerned gaze. "It is... difficult for me to see my father in this way, Elrohir. He is always so strong. He is the one who always cared for me, and now I am unable to do the same for him."

Elrohir tightened his hold on the prince's arm. "Your father will recover," he told him firmly. "My father's skills are unrivaled. There is no finer healer in all of Arda. And you are aiding him, _mellon-nín_. When we bring traces of the herb to _Ada_, he will be able to create the antidote. And Aeglironion and Amonost will be detained and punished for their treachery."

Legolas nodded once, attempting to give his friend a small smile. Then, he sighed as he set his hand on Elrohir's arm as well. "_Hannon le_."

The kitchens were dark and quiet when Elrohir and Legolas entered through the high, double doors. They made their way past the tables to where the food was prepared, glancing around at the cupboards lit by the moonlight filtering in through the many-paned windows.

"From what I am able to discern, we are searching for a finely cut, deep green herb," the younger twin muttered, looking at the minute remaining contents of the glass of water that had been given to Thranduil. "I assume Aeglironion would keep the herb itself with him in case there is need of it, though we may be able to find a trace of it in a bowl he may have prepared it in or on the counters."

"I will search this side," Legolas said, crossing the room to begin scouring through the cupboards. The sooner he could find some evidence, the sooner he could aid his father.

Elrohir walked away from the tables, beginning to scan the countertops for any trace of possible herbs that could have been left behind. He sighed quietly in defeat when he saw they had been wiped clean over the course of the day. Aeglironion was clever. Listening as Legolas continued to sift through the cupboards to inspect the bowls, the younger twin turned to a table nearby that was also used for preparing food and wandered over, not expecting to spot anything there.

But then, he bent down a little when something caught his eye. He gasped quietly when he noticed some fine grains of a deep green herb, nearly blending in with the wood. The fair-haired cook was not as shrewd as he had initially believed. His heart lightening, Elrohir quickly pulled a small bowl off the counter, carefully brushing the particles into it before dusting his fingers off on his dark tunic. Hopefully, they now had what they needed for Elrond to create an antidote for Thranduil.

"Legolas, I believe I found..." But the dark-haired Elf's sentence slowly trailed off when he no longer heard his friend searching through the cupboards. In his thrill of finding traces of the herb, he hadn't noticed the almost eerie silence that had fallen over the kitchen. "Legolas?"

"Is this what you are searching for, _penneth_?"

Elrohir quickly turned around, surprised by the unexpected voice, and his gray eyes widened when he saw Aeglironion leaning against a nearby table, a smirk on his fair face and a cruel glint in his light eyes. In one hand was a vial containing the deep green herb he had used to poison the Mirkwood king.

The younger twin angrily took a step toward him, but the fair-haired cook held up his other hand. "I would stay where you are if I were you," he cautioned.

"What..." Elrohir stopped when more movement caught his eye, and horror crossed his fair features as Amonost stepped out of the shadows near Aeglironion. In one hand he tightly grasped Legolas' arm, and with the other he held his dagger blade lightly across the prince's throat.

**Author's Note**: Nope. The cliffhangers are not going away. And I figured Legolas needed some love here, lol! Aragorn's such a trooper though, isn't he? After what the poor little guy went through in the last chapter, I figured he could use a pretty big moment. So, now we know that Aeglironion and Amonost poisoned Thranduil with the water, and Elrond was also a target. But the why is what we have yet to find out. Thanks for reading! Your reviews are much appreciated. Thanks!


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer**: Those you recognize belong to Tolkien. I do not own them. Those you do not recognize belong to me.

**Summary**: Gaining the friendship of a mortal child was not something Thranduil expected on his trip to Imladris with his son. But when secret plots result in grave consequences, the boy may be the king's one hope of survival.

**Author's Note**: So, after the response on the last chapter, **doreenthatshot**, **AnaofRohan**, and I have ventured to go save Legolas. Though I have to say it really wouldn't make sense if our adventure to rescue everyone's favorite Mirkwood prince was to be written down in the context of this story, so we'll just have to see how this plays out ;) Haha! Anyway, thanks so much to for your reviews! You guys are awesome and make this story even more fun! Hope this chapter doesn't disappoint. Also on a bit of a random note, the song "Afterlife" by Avenged Sevenfold has been very helpful for the next couple chapters. Not entirely sure if that's a good or bad thing, lol! Read, review, but no flames please. Enjoy!

Elvish:

_ernil_- prince  
><em>ada<em>- father  
><em>penneth<em>- young one  
><em>mellon-nín<em>- my friend  
><em>hannon le<em>- thank you

_Chapter 4_

Elrohir stared at his Mirkwood friend in horror, his gaze passing over the impassive look on Legolas' fair face and the determined look in his eye despite the blade resting lightly against his neck. His gaze then moved to Amonost, who held him, his eyes narrowing angrily at the guard.

"I trusted you," he muttered so quietly the Elf his words were directed toward could hardly hear them. "After all you have done for Elladan and I, you aid in an attempt to murder our father?"

For a moment, Amonost's dark eyes faltered, but only for a moment as he instead focused on keeping a tight hold on his hostage. "I... I have aided with what is right," he said a bit uncertainly.

The younger twin raised an eyebrow. "You would slay your own kin?" he wondered, catching the nervous flicker in the guard's eyes.

Aeglironion glanced at the dark-haired Elf before turning his attention back to Elrohir, slipping the vial of herbs back into his tunic. "I thought it would be clear that the risk is one I am more than willing to take," the fair-haired cook told him. "For in a few short hours, your father and Thranduil will be dead. They will not last until sunrise."

Elrohir opened his mouth to argue, but the prince was quicker. "They will not," Legolas replied angrily, watching as Aeglironion's light eyes moved to him. "Elrond did not drink your poison, and he has been healing my father. You will not succeed."

However, Aeglironion merely laughed at his words as he turned and slowly took a couple steps closer to the prince. "I suppose that mortal child is more observant than I thought. I should have planned more accordingly," he mused. "However, it is no matter. I will not make the same mistake again." He stopped in front of Legolas, unfazed by his angry glare. "There are other ways to administer poison to _Lord_ Elrond. As for your father, _ernil_, all Elrond's attempts are only prolonging his suffering. After all, what he requires is in my possession. It may take longer, but Thranduil _will_ die."

Legolas' blue eyes narrowed as he leaned forward, attempting to reach the cook, but he was stopped by the pressure of the blade against his neck, enough to leave a slight cut in his skin. Aeglironion grinned, reaching forward and roughly grabbing a handful of the prince's light hair before leaning closer.

"Your father deserves the torment, Legolas," he whispered. A smirk appeared on his face when he saw the Mirkwood Elf's eyes widen slightly, reading the silent question in them.

How did this cook know his name?

Elrohir took a couple steps closer, but he paused when Aeglironion released his hold on his friend and turned back to him. "As for you, Elrohir, I want you to hand me that glass and bowl," he told him, holding his hand out for emphasis. "You will not be bringing them to Elrond."

The younger twin hesitated, tightening his hold around the objects the cook was demanding. His thoughts traveled to Thranduil, knowing he required them if his friend was to survive, and he slowly shook his head. "I will not," he said firmly.

Anger flickered across Aeglironion's face as he lowered his hand. "Mayhap I must be clearer." He glanced at Amonost, who pressed the edge of his dagger a bit closer to Legolas' neck, causing the prince to involuntarily wince. "Hand me the glass and bowl, or your friend will die."

Elrohir's gaze faltered before landing on the dark-haired guard. "You would not kill him," he muttered, his tone confident.

Amonost noticeably hesitated as he glanced down at Legolas' impassive expression, and though he kept his tight grip around the dagger handle, he eased the pressure of the blade on his throat slightly. Aeglironion's light eyes narrowed angrily.

"He may not," the cook began, reaching for something on his hip, "but I would."

Elrohir watched with horror as Aeglironion grabbed a dagger that had been hidden by his tunic, taking a couple steps toward them as the fair-haired Elf turned his attention to Legolas and raised the blade. However, the cook paused when a sword blade suddenly rested in front of Amonost's neck, causing the guard to stiffen.

"Release him," a firm voice demanded quietly but with authority.

"Glorfindel," Elrohir said, sighing with relief.

The golden-haired warrior had silently been approaching the traitorous guard and cook during their conversation, his presence unnoticed until it was too late. Judging by the anger on his face, he had no intention to free the dark-haired Elf.

"Release him," Glorfindel repeated when he did not oblige, pressing the blade with a bit more force against his throat. Amonost gasped quietly when it was enough to leave a slight cut in his skin, and seeing no option, he slowly lowered his dagger from Legolas' neck. The prince hurriedly stepped away from the guard, casting a grateful look to Glorfindel, who roughly grabbed Amonost's shoulder once the younger Elf was out of harm's way.

Aeglironion began to raise his dagger once more, but he was stopped when the point of a second sword was aimed at him. His light eyes moved to its holder, and a small smirk appeared on his face when he saw Elladan glaring back at him.

"Bring what you have found to _Ada_," the older twin told his brother and Legolas, aware of the urgency of the situation. "We will handle them."

Elrohir nodded once before he handed the bowl to the prince, and Elladan kept his sword trained on Aeglironion as they hurried past them out of the kitchens. The cook's smirk remained.

"You are being detained on charges of attempted murder against Lord Elrond of Imladris and King Thranduil of Mirkwood," Glorfindel stated, his intense gaze moving from Amonost to Aeglironion and back. "As well as on Lord Elrond's chief advisor."

Amonost quickly glanced up at the twice-born warrior. "It was not my intent to take Erestor's life!" he protested anxiously. "Lord Glorfindel, I swear it!"

Glorfindel's expression remained impassive, though his gaze smoldered. "It was not taken," he murmured, his tone threatening. "Though the act was enough." He then turned to Elladan. "Secure his dagger."

Elladan slowly began to take a couple steps closer to Glorfindel and Amonost, keeping his gray eyes and sword trained on Aeglironion. Once he was close enough, he reached his other hand out to take the guard's weapon, lowering his gaze for only an instant.

But it was enough.

As soon as Elladan grasped Amonost's dagger, Aeglironion raised his own and forced the older twin's blade aside as he shoved past him, disappearing into the darkness of the kitchen. Elladan glanced at Glorfindel, who nodded once, before he hurried after the fleeing cook. The twice-born warrior then turned his attention to Amonost, an angry glint remaining in his eye as he roughly shoved the guard who had been under his command into the counter. He lowered his sword, but the firm hand on the dark-haired Elf's shoulder kept him still.

"Honorable of him to abandon you to the fate you shall both share," Glorfindel muttered.

Amonost's gaze faltered, unable to meet his eyes. The golden-haired Elf studied his face carefully for a long moment. "You have served under me for a long time," he continued when the guard said nothing. "Why would you aid in a task such as this?"

"It was just," Amonost replied quietly, wincing when Glorfindel tightened his hand on his shoulder and leaned closer.

"Attempting to murder the lord of this realm and the king of another is _just_?" the Balrog Slayer demanded angrily.

"I... I knew not what Aeglironion intended when he came from Mirkwood," Amonost protested, his panicked eyes moving to the golden-haired Elf's furious ones. "Lord Glorfindel, I-!"

"Amonost," Glorfindel interrupted, loosening his hold a bit. "Did you say Aeglironion hails from Mirkwood?"

"Aye." Amonost nodded earnestly. "I first encountered him when we were called for the Last Alliance. He journeyed here many years after the battle."

Glorfindel lowered his gaze, mulling this information over for a moment. Then, his hard gaze moved back to the dark-haired guard, tightening his hand on his shoulder once more before he began to lead him from the kitchens.

* * *

><p>"There is not much here," Elrond muttered thoughtfully, inspecting the minute, drenched remains of the herbs at the bottom of the glass Thranduil had been given as well as the slight traces in the bowl Elrohir had brought from the kitchens. His younger son and Legolas had returned shortly before, and after tending to the slight cut the latter had received, the Elf lord had immediately turned his attention to what they had given him. "Though from what I am unable to discern, the plant is not native to Imladris."<p>

Legolas anxiously looked up from his still and silent father, keeping his tight hold on his ringed hand while Elrohir turned to Elrond nervously. "Is it not enough, _Ada_?" he asked quietly, voicing the dread on both his and the prince's minds.

Erestor studied the dark tunic he had been wearing from where he sat in the chair beneath the window since Elrond had cleaned and wrapped the stab wound he had acquired while Legolas and Elrohir were gone, tracing the tear in the fabric with his fingertip before he glanced at the lord of Imladris when he did not answer his younger son's question. "Lord Elrond?" he prompted, draping the ruined garment over his arm. His quiet voice caused Aragorn, who was nearly falling asleep in the chair beside him, to stir a little.

Elrond slowly shook his head as he set the bowl on the small table beside the bed, passing a hand over his face as he sighed and began to pace a little. "I know not," he finally admitted quietly. He paused and turned his intense gaze to Elrohir, authority reentering his tone. "Prepare more fever reducing herbs, as well as some athelas. I will do what I am able with what you have given me."

Elrohir nodded once before he approached the small table and began to prepare the herbs his father requested. He attempted to keep his focus on the task before him, though he found it a bit difficult as his angered thoughts strayed to Aeglironion's words from the kitchen. The cook had what Elrond needed to save Thranduil's life. If only he had lingered behind longer to aid his twin and Glorfindel. Perhaps then he could have obtained what the Mirkwood monarch required.

Elrond observed his son, burdened slightly by the turmoil he could feel raging inside him, before he sat on the bed across from Legolas, his gray eyes resting on Thranduil between them. He watched the slight rise and fall of the king's chest for a moment before reaching forward and placing two fingers on the side of his neck. The Elf lord's eyes narrowed with concern when he felt his friend's pulse was still much too quick.

Legolas looked at the dark-haired Elf with worry before casting his eyes back to his father. Thranduil appeared to be resting peacefully, a significant change from before he had left. Though with his closed eyes and the lack of color in his face, that tranquility was deceiving. How the prince longed for just a quick glimpse of his father's familiar blue eyes. How he longed to hear even a whisper of his father's timbre voice. How he silently pleaded for just a simple sign that the king he loved still lived. Legolas closed his eyes in attempt to prevent the tears that threatened to make themselves known, taking a deep breath to collect himself. Elrond glanced up, reaching across the bed and wrapping his hand around the younger Elf's free one without a word. His gaze faltered slightly when he felt Legolas grasp it as though it was a lifeline.

Erestor watched them with a sorrowful gaze, praying Elrond would be able to create an antidote with the scarce materials he had to work with since he feared Thranduil would be dead by morning if he was not. However, he had never seen the Elf lord so uncertain, and that concerned him. The chief advisor then glanced down at Aragorn when the child jumped a little, rubbing his clearly tired eyes. A hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he watched the boy struggle to stay awake, determined to know how his new friend would fare, but the need for sleep was too great.

"I am going to bring Estel to bed, Lord Elrond," Erestor announced, wincing slightly as he stood from the chair when his side protested to the motion before he straightened out the light shirt the Elf lord had given him.

Elrond glanced up from the bed as Legolas did, a small smile appearing on his face when he saw Aragorn was already nearly asleep. He released the prince's hand and stood before he crossed the room to the chair, kneeling on the floor in front of his foster son. "May your dreams be pleasant, _penneth_," he said quietly, tenderly brushing some dark hair back from his face. "I will see you on the morrow."

Aragorn sleepily nodded a couple times before he leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Elrond's neck in an embrace. "Good night, _Ada_," he mumbled, resting his head on his shoulder. "You wiwl tewl me how Thwan'dil is?"

The lord of Imladris sighed as he pulled the small child close to him, closing his eyes for a moment. "Aye, Estel. Rest now."

"Awl right, _Ada_." Aragorn slowly released his foster father and rubbed his eyes again. Elrond leaned forward and kissed his forehead, setting his hand on top of his dark hair for a moment before he rose to his feet and walked back over to the bed. The boy then looked up at Erestor when the advisor held his hand out to him, and he reached out and wrapped his smaller one around it as he jumped down to the floor.

"Good night, Ewohir. Legowas," Aragorn added as Erestor led him toward the door.

"Rest well, Estel," Elrohir replied while Legolas nodded and smiled at the young mortal.

Aragorn returned it before he stepped out into the dark hallway with the advisor, keeping a tight hold on his hand as they walked in the direction of his room. The child glanced up at Erestor, noticing the slight hint of pain in his stern, still slightly paler features with each step they took, and he sighed quietly with concern. The dark-haired Elf moved his dark eyes down to him, but when he saw the boy was looking ahead of them again, he raised his gaze as well.

When they made their way down the staircase, Erestor slowed his pace slightly when near silent footsteps drew nearer, and he and Aragorn watched as Glorfindel approached from the shadows of the kitchens. Held tightly in his grasp was Amonost.

"I see you have detained him," Erestor muttered stiffly, eyeing the traitorous guard with disdain.

Glorfindel nodded, but before he could reply, Amonost took a step toward the thin advisor. "Thank the Valar you are well, Erestor," he said, reaching his hands out and grasping his arm. "You must understand I panicked. I did not intend for you-!"

"Enough," Glorfindel commanded, pulling the dark-haired Elf back with a bit more force than necessary. He then turned his harsh gaze to Erestor, softening instantly when his eyes lingered on his side where he knew the dagger wound was as well as the ruined tunic draped over his arm. "How do you fare, _mellon-nín_?"

"Better, Glorfindel. _Hannon le_," Erestor told him, his dark eyes not leaving Amonost. The guard shifted a little under his stern gaze.

Glorfindel smiled slightly before it waned. "And Thranduil?" he asked hesitantly.

Erestor sighed as he turned to the golden-haired warrior. "He briefly regained consciousness," he answered quietly. He paused, slowly shaking his head. "Though Elrohir and Legolas managed to find slight traces of the poison in the kitchens, Elrond feels it may not be enough to work with for an antidote. I fear Thranduil may not last until sunrise."

The Balrog Slayer lowered his gaze, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. Noticeable guilt crossed Amonost's face at this information since he had aided in the plot against the Mirkwood king, as well as Elrond, though he could not help but feel some gratitude the same fate had not befallen the lord of Imladris.

The guard then turned his attention to Aragorn, who was watching Glorfindel and Erestor continue to discuss in quiet tones with slightly drooping eyes. He took a step closer, and the child quickly turned his gaze to him, his eyes widening slightly.

"Estel, you must understand," Amonost muttered anxiously. "I was unaware harm was meant to befall your father. I have been nothing but kind to you, have I not?"

Aragorn looked up at the dark-haired Elf, taking a step back from him. This was the guard who had aided to harm his new friend. Amonost reached toward him, and the child cowered as he tightly grasped Erestor's hand with both of his own. However, before he could reach Aragorn, the strict advisor took a step in front of the boy protectively while Glorfindel quickly pulled the guard back.

"You will not speak another word to him," the twice-born warrior snarled angrily, tightening his hold on the traitor's arm.

"It is all right, Estel," Erestor muttered, kneeling before the child and brushing his fingers through his dark hair in a calming motion. Aragorn wrapped his arms around the advisor's neck, burying his face in his shoulder. The thin Elf wound his arms around the child and held him close, turning to Glorfindel. "What of Aeglironion?"

"He fled while we were detaining _him_," Glorfindel explained, anger flaring in his eyes as he glared at the guard. "Elladan pursued him, and once Amonost is secured, I will gather more forces to search for Aeglironion. We will find him."

Erestor nodded once before lifting Aragorn into his right arm and balancing him on his uninjured hip after he rose to his feet, the child not relenting his hold around the advisor's neck as he narrowed his gray eyes at the guard. "I only hope it is soon," he said, dropping his voice so only the golden-haired Elf could hear him. "Thranduil does not have much time."

"Can Elrond do _nothing_ with what was found?" Glorfindel pressed with concern. "Aeglironion may have his poison, but Elrohir and Legolas were able to acquire traces of it."

"I have not once seen him as uncertain as he is now." Erestor shook his head slightly, worry crossing his fair features as well.

Glorfindel sighed, and by the look in his eye, he wished there was something more he could do for the lord of Imladris. "If anyone in Arda could aid Thranduil with what they discovered, it is Elrond," he muttered confidently. "He must."

Erestor's gaze fell, though he nodded once. "Aye," he agreed quietly, glancing down at Aragorn when he felt the child's light, even breathing as his arms around his neck loosened a little. A slight smile curled the corner of his lips when he saw he had fallen asleep resting his head on his shoulder. "I must bring Estel to bed. Then I will return to see if I am able to aid Elrond."

Glorfindel smiled slightly, though it had a somber feel, when he looked at the sleeping boy, leaning forward and leaving a quick, gentle kiss on his head. Then, he turned his attention to Amonost, and unnecessarily tightening his hand on his arm, the golden-haired Elf began to pull the quietly protesting guard along with him as they made their way down the hall. Erestor watched them until they were out of sight before continuing on himself, holding Aragorn close to him securely.

The strict advisor reached the child's room quickly, opening the door before stepping inside. He crossed to the bed and pulled back the blankets before carefully setting Aragorn down on his pillows and covering him. "Pleasant dreams, _penneth_," Erestor whispered, setting his hand lightly on the boy's head for a moment before he straightened and began to make his way to the door. After stopping at his own room to gather a fresh tunic, he would check on Thranduil's condition.

"Ewestor?"

At the quiet sound of his name, Erestor paused, turning over his shoulder to see Aragorn looking back at him with weary gray eyes. "Aye, Estel?"

Aragorn slowly sat up, rubbing his eyes, and Erestor walked back and sat on the bed beside the child. "Is... Is Thwan'dil gonna be okay?" he asked quietly.

Erestor debated his answer for a moment, setting his hand on the boy's shoulder. He winced slightly when Aragorn leaned into his injured left side but wrapped his arm around him regardless. "I pray so, _penneth_," he muttered, brushing some dark hair back from the mortal's face when he looked up at him fearfully. "Though I am confident your father is the one who would be able to heal him."

The five-year-old considered the advisor's words, his small hand grasping his light shirt tightly for comfort. "Ewestor, what's poi... pois'n?" he wondered. "That's what Thwan'dil has, right?"

"Poison is not an illness, Estel," Erestor attempted to explain with a quiet sigh. "Rather it is something that can be used when someone wants to hurt someone else."

"'Cause they'we mad?" Aragorn pressed. When Erestor nodded, the child's gray eyes narrowed slightly. "Why wouwd that guawd and cook want to huwt Thwan'dil? And _Ada_? They did not'ing wong!" He paused, hesitating on his next words. "Did they?"

"Nay, Estel. They did not." Erestor said the words merely to put the child's fears at rest, though he was unsure if he believed them. For as long as he had known the proud Mirkwood king and the lord of Imladris, he had not believed them capable of treachery. He loved Elrond as he would his own family, and he had grown closer to Thranduil over time, mainly due to the escapades of his often mischievous young son whenever he visited their realm. However, they had clearly done some ill in Amonost and Aeglironion's eyes. Though what either Thranduil or Elrond could have done that was deserving of a slow, painful death from poison, he did not know.

"But that is what we will find out," the advisor added quietly.

Aragorn seemed appeased by his words as he yawned. Erestor gave the child a small smile before he took his arm from around him. "Rest, _penneth_," he said, gently lying him on his pillows once more. "'Tis late."

Though he opened his mouth to protest, Aragorn was unable to as a second yawn overtook him. "Good night, Ewestor," he mumbled, closing his eyes as he found a comfortable spot on his pillow.

Erestor's smile broadened slightly as he covered the already sleeping child with his blankets, leaning down and softly kissing his head. Once he was sure Aragorn was comfortable, the strict advisor walked away from the bed and crossed the room. He paused in the doorway, glancing over his shoulder at the boy once more before he stepped out into the hallway, shutting the door quietly behind him.

* * *

><p>"Thwan'dil!"<p>

_The child ran toward where the eerily still Elven king was lying on the bed, struggling to climb onto it before quickly crawling to his side. "Thwan'dil!" he repeated, studying his deathly pale face and closed eyes for a long moment. "Thwan'dil!" But there was no response from the golden-haired Elf._

_Slowly reaching out a shaking hand, the child placed two small fingers on Thranduil's neck, but he felt nothing. There was no pulsating rhythm beneath his fingertips._

_Panicked, the child quickly moved his gaze back to the king's face, seeing his fair features were void of expression. "Thwan'dil," he whispered, setting his hand on the golden-haired Elf's cold cheek. "Wake up, Thwan'dil..."_

_The sound of breaking glass filled the room, and the child quickly looked to his right. Elrond was standing near the window, defeat clearly seen in his intense gray eyes, with Erestor, his posture stiff and his jaw clenched, beside him. Glorfindel stood close on his other side, a hand resting comfortingly on the Elf lord's tensed shoulder as a crestfallen look crossed his face when he gazed at the king. At their feet were the shattered remains of two glasses and a bowl. _

_Legolas stood at the foot of the bed, his face impassive but his eyes filled with sorrow and hopelessness as he looked down on his motionless father. He tightly clutched a sheathed sword in his palms, which the child had seen Thranduil wear before, his hands trembling slightly. Elladan and Elrohir stood close together a couple steps behind the prince, matching pained expressions on their faces as they silently watched their Mirkwood friend._

_Something on the small table beside the bed caught his eye, and the child turned to see Thranduil's crown, or rather what was left of it. A sudden draft entered the room, and he watched as the last remaining golden leaves were taken and swept swiftly out the window. A thin line of tears forming in his eyes, the boy set his hand on top of one of the king's ringed ones, once again not granted with a response._

_"Thwan'dil..."_

Aragorn cried out as he sat up on his bed, his small form shaking a little as he anxiously looked at the darkness of his room around him. "_Ada_!" he called, a quiet sob escaping from him. "_Ada_!"

Since his foster father's room was not far away, Elrond would always come when Aragorn was woken in the night by a dark dream, his presence comforting as he drove away the haunting images that plagued his mind. But this time, the Elf lord did not come, and the child was unable to forget the vision of a deathly pale Thranduil.

Knowing Elrond would still be tending to the king, Aragorn sniffed and attempted to wipe the tears from his eyes before he pushed the covers aside and leapt to the floor. He hurried across the room, desperate to find out how his friend was faring, and stood up on his toes to reach the door handle. His reaching fingers were finally able to grasp it, and he pulled the door open and hurried out into the hallway.

However, the five-year-old gasped when he collided with a tall form, falling onto his backside. Aragorn fought the fresh tears that threatened to fall as he looked up, his gray eyes narrowing slightly to see who he had run into in the darkness. A slight smile appeared on his face when he saw a hint of golden hair in the soft moonlight filtering through the windows.

"Gwowfy?"

There was a moment of silence where the boy's smile slightly waned. "Not quite, _penneth_."

Aragorn's smile completely vanished as his eyes widened at the cruel tone. He watched with horror as the Elf he believed had been his friend took a couple steps closer, the faint light falling on the smirking face of Aeglironion.

**Author's Note**: I know, I know. I'm evil, lol. Aeglironion is one cruel Elf, isn't he? What are his plans now? Why do he and Amonost want to kill Thranduil and Elrond? Well, hopefully we'll find out soon! Thanks for reading! Your reviews are much appreciated. Thanks! Oh, and if you celebrate it, have a great Labor Day :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer**: Those you recognize belong to Tolkien. I do not own them. Those you do not recognize belong to me.

**Summary**: Gaining the friendship of a mortal child was not something Thranduil expected on his trip to Imladris with his son. But when secret plots result in grave consequences, the boy may be the king's one hope of survival.

**Author's Note**: So, okay. My fall semester has started up for me, so my updates are gonna be a bit slower. But I'll try to keep as steady of an update pace as possible, as well as for my other story I'm currently posting. So, sorry this one took so long, lol! But after that cliffhanger, here's the next chapter! Thanks so much to **Gwedhiel0117**, **Elven Warrior Princess**, **Estel**, **The Pearl Maiden**, **PatonxJulia**, **Doreen**, **Lou-deadfroggy**, and **iccle fairy** for your reviews! Hope you like this one too!

Elvish:

_daro_- stop/halt  
><em>hír-nín<em>- my lord  
><em>penneth<em>- young one  
><em>ada<em>- father  
><em>tithen pen<em>- little one  
><em>mellon-nín<em>- my friend

_Chapter 5_

Amonost winced when he was roughly shoved to the stone floor of the dark room, watching as Glorfindel stepped inside after him. There had been times where he himself had interrogated prisoners in this very room, though oftentimes it was the twice-born warrior who had the pleasure. The dark-haired guard never envisioned he would be on the receiving end of the golden-haired Elf's treatment.

"Where would Aeglironion flee?" Glorfindel wasted no time with matters of formality. Time was of the essence.

"I... I know not," Amonost said earnestly. "He did not-!"

The guard's statement was abruptly interrupted by a swift kick to the leg by Glorfindel. "Answer me," the Balrog Slayer demanded firmly but quietly as he began to circle.

Amonost took a deep breath, keeping his hand over his leg protectively, before shaking his head slightly. "I told you, Lord Glorfindel, I know not where-!"

Glorfindel instantly knelt beside his prisoner as he drew his sword, grasping a handful of his dark hair to force him to look at the blade. Amonost winced once more. There were limits set in place that restricted what could be done in interrogations which protected the one receiving them, though the golden-haired warrior was close to breaching them. And by the impassive look on his face, he did not mind.

"Do you not understand what is at stake?" Glorfindel asked so quietly his voice was hardly above a whisper. "A life hangs in the balance with what you are now able to tell me. We must have that antidote. Where is he?"

"Would Lord Elrond approve of your methods, Lord Glorfindel?" Amonost wondered with a slight smirk.

Glorfindel's eyes narrowed dangerously as he pulled the guard's head back a bit, moving his sword closer to his throat. "Should King Thranduil die, his death shall rest on your head," he murmured, his voice filled with venom. "Am I understood?"

Amonost nodded, clearly nervous, before Glorfindel lowered his blade and shoved him away. The dark-haired Elf rubbed his arm as the twice-born warrior sheathed his sword and rose to his feet, his intense gaze lingering on his prisoner as he began to pace once more. The guard slowly sat up, his gaze resting on Glorfindel. "Aeglironion keeps the herb with him," he muttered. "It is required for the antidote, as is athelas. Without it, the athelas would merely prolong the suffering of your friend the king."

Glorfindel paused, slowly reaching for his sword for the second time. Amonost's face paled. "_Daro_!" he begged, backing away from the golden-haired Elf a little as he raised a hand before him in a peaceful gesture. "You must understand, Lord Glorfindel, I know not where Aeglironion went. He likely remains in the house."

"He would not linger for long. Where would he go once he leaves?" Glorfindel pressed, wrapping his hand around his sword hilt. "Return to Mirkwood?"

Amonost's gaze faltered as he slowly shook his head. "No, _hír-nín_," he told him, eyeing the weapon on his hip anxiously. "He cannot return there."

Glorfindel's eyes narrowed slightly. "He cannot return to Mirkwood?" he repeated. "How come?"

The dark-haired guard sighed, lowering his gaze slightly. "I have already said too much," he muttered.

There was a moment of silence where neither of them moved. Then, Glorfindel drew his sword, his fair face impassive as he slowly walked toward Amonost, the blade glinting menacingly in the soft moonlight filtering into the room.

* * *

><p>Erestor stepped out into the hallway and shut the door of his room behind him, feeling slightly refreshed in his fresh tunic. He could not stop a wince as he made his way down the hall, his wounded side protesting to the motion of each step he took. Though he had allowed Elrond to clean and wrap the injury, he had not accepted the pain reducing herbs he had offered to make, despite his insistence. His only concern was even though it had considerably slowed to the point where it had nearly stopped, blood had stained the bandages, and they would need to be changed. However, it was something he would not bother the Elf lord with since he could take care of it himself. Thranduil was in need of Elrond's care more than he.<p>

The strict advisor slowly walked around the corner, his dark eyes widening slightly with surprise when he nearly collided with another dark-haired Elf. "Elladan?"

"Where is Glorfindel?" the older twin son of Elrond asked immediately.

"He is securing Amonost," Erestor answered. But then, his eyes narrowed as he reached forward and set his hand on his arm. "Elladan, are you all right?"

Elladan looked back at the advisor with confusion for a moment before he raised his hand to his cheek, seeing traces of crimson staining his fingertips when he pulled it away. "I am fine," he said quickly, brushing off the older Elf's concern. "'Tis not deep."

Erestor eyed the slight cut on Elladan's face for a moment longer before meeting his gaze. "What happened?" he wondered.

"I pursued Aeglironion for a time before he managed to catch me off guard," Elladan explained. "I have searched the house but was unable to trace him. Glorfindel must set a perimeter."

Nodding once, Erestor set his hand on the older twin's arm and began to lead him down the hall in the direction of where their guards interrogated prisoners as quickly as his injured side allowed. Aeglironion could not leave Imladris, not with a life hanging in the balance. They walked in silence for a time before Elladan glanced at the advisor's still slightly paler face.

"How do you fare?" he asked quietly.

"Do not be concerned for me," Erestor answered, keeping his stern gaze ahead of him. "There are more important matters at hand, Elladan."

Elladan watched him for a moment, noticing the slight wince that crossed his face as they continued walking. "What of Thranduil?" he wondered.

Erestor lowered his gaze. "If we do not find Aeglironion, I fear he will not last," he muttered, unable to meet the younger Elf's inquiring gaze. "His one chance lies with Elrond's skill. Your father is doing what he is able, but he feels it may not be enough. It is imperative we detain Aeglironion."

Worry crossed Elladan's face. He had been confident his father's skill would be enough to aid the ailing king, but the doubts the Elf lord had concerned him. Elrond had always been so certain. To be so unsure now did not suit him. "Do... do you believe Thranduil will survive?"

The strict advisor glanced at the older twin when he heard the hesitance in his tone, sighing as he deliberated his answer. "I know not, _penneth_," he whispered, lowering his gaze.

No more words passed between the two dark-haired Elves as they turned the corner, making their way toward an open door at the end. Then, they paused when they heard a scream, and Elladan exchanged a concerned look with Erestor before he ran toward the interrogation room, the thin Elf following behind as quickly as he could.

The older twin stopped in the doorway, watching as Amonost wrapped his arms protectively around his midsection as he leaned back against the wall and gasped for breath. Glorfindel stood before him, his face impassive as he looked down on the traitorous guard. In his hand he held his sword.

"Glorfindel!" Startled, Elladan rushed into the room and wrapped his arms around the golden-haired Elf, pulling him back a little. The twice-born warrior knew the limits of interrogation since he had aided in setting them in place. Erestor stepped inside soon after, studying his friend's blade carefully and noticing it was clean.

"Do not fret, Elladan," Glorfindel muttered, not fighting his hold on him as his smoldering gaze lingered on the guard before them. "I have no intent to use it. Merely to threaten."

"You may tell your father, Lord Elladan, that Lord Glorfindel has breached the limits of interrogation," Amonost muttered from where he lay on the hard ground, chuckling quietly while the older twin released the Balrog Slayer. "Anything I have said shall be disregarded."

Elladan appeared ready to reply, though Erestor took a step closer to the guard, his dark eyes narrowed. "With the circumstances at hand, I believe Lord Elrond may make an exception," he told him. "This interrogation is the least of his concerns."

The thin advisor then turned his attention to Glorfindel. "Have you gained any insight to Aeglironion's whereabouts?" he asked.

Glorfindel glanced at the door of the room, and Erestor led the way out into the hall with Elladan and the golden-haired warrior behind him. Once they were out of the room, Glorfindel shut the door and slid the heavy lock in place to secure their prisoner. "Nay," he answered heavily, glancing at the older twin. His light eyes flickered when they ran over the cut on his cheek. "He has escaped?"

Elladan's gaze faltered. "He caught me off guard," he explained quietly. "I know not where he is now."

"I will set a perimeter," Glorfindel said, mainly to himself as he began to walk down the hall, the two dark-haired Elves following closely. "Mayhap he has not yet left our borders." He paused, shaking his head slightly. "Amonost has confirmed the herb Aeglironion possesses is needed for the antidote. We must find him with all haste. Mayhap I should send a few guards to Mirkwood in case..."

"Mirkwood?" Erestor repeated, falling in step beside his friend.

Glorfindel glanced back at the stern advisor. "Aeglironion hails from Mirkwood," he muttered.

Erestor's eyes narrowed slightly. "I remember when he arrived, though I do not recall him telling us he had come from Mirkwood."

The golden-haired warrior sighed. "Neither do I," he replied, a hint of anger in his tone. "Though now he has proven why he arrived."

Glorfindel soon left, hurrying to prepare a patrol to set the perimeter in hopes they were not too late to detain Aeglironion. Erestor continued toward the room where Elrond was tending to Thranduil with Elladan until the older twin slowed to a stop.

"Has Estel been put to bed?" he wondered.

"Aye, before I found you," Erestor confirmed, stopping as well as he glanced back at him.

Elladan smiled, though it had a slightly somber feel. "I wish to check on him," he said. "He has had a difficult night."

Erestor nodded once, able to see the concern Elladan had for his young foster brother. "He may need you," he muttered.

"I will do what I am able to aid _Ada_ once I am through." Elladan watched as Erestor continued toward the staircase before he turned and took the hallway that would bring him to Aragorn's room. With the events of that night, he was still concerned for the child after what he had endured, unable to forget how terrified the five-year-old was as he held him in his arms when their patrol discovered him and Thranduil, unable to forget the sobs that shook his small frame as the tears rolled freely down his cheeks.

The older twin forced these thoughts aside as he approached the mortal's room, reaching out and quietly pushing open the door. If the boy was sleeping, he did not want to disturb him.

But when Elladan leaned into the room, his gray eyes widened in horror at the sight before him. The blankets and pillows of the bed were scattered carelessly on the floor, the chair by the window was knocked over, and a few books that had been stacked on top of the desk had spilled onto the floor.

"Estel!" Elladan yelled, stepping into the room and looking around anxiously. "Estel!"

But his call went unanswered. Aragorn was nowhere in sight.

* * *

><p>Aragorn sniffed as Aeglironion snuck down the hallway, a couple more tears escaping from his eyes as he struggled in the cook's tight hold on him. The fair-haired Elf had secured a rag around his mouth to keep him quiet, and the child despised the taste it left on his tongue. However, his efforts to escape only amused Aeglironion as a slight smirk crossed his fair features.<p>

"You may struggle all you wish, Estel, it will not change anything," he muttered, glancing into the hallway ahead of him and making sure it was clear before he continued. "I must leave one parting gift for your father, and then we shall be on our way."

Something in the cook's tone sent a chill down Aragorn's spine as Aeglironion hurried through the double doors into the dark kitchens. The large room was empty as he made his way to where the food was prepared, and the cook set the child on the floor beside him before he began to go through the cupboards.

"As I told your brother, there are other ways to meet the same end," Aeglironion said quietly, setting a plate and an empty pastry crust on the counter.

Aragorn watched him for a moment, his eyes widening slightly when the cook pulled out a vial containing what appeared to be a deep green herb from his tunic. He remembered Elrond mentioning something about herbs being what poisoned Thranduil, and there was no doubt in his mind that these were the culprit. He was going to hurt his foster father.

Aeglironion prepared to line the pastry crust with the finely cut herb, but Aragorn turned himself so that he was facing the cook before he reached out and wrapped his arms tightly around his leg. The fair-haired Elf quickly looked down, attempting to shake him off.

"Release me, you little wretch!" he snapped.

However, Aragorn did not relent his hold. Aeglironion growled angrily, but before either of them could do anything more, the cook paused when the door to the kitchens opened. The traitorous Elf quickly turned his gaze back to the child. "Make any sound and I will slip some of _these_ to your brothers," he threatened in nearly a whisper, holding the vial up for emphasis before slipping it back into his tunic. "Or mayhap your dear friend Legolas. The choice is yours, _tithen pen_."

Aragorn's gaze flickered nervously as Aeglironion straightened up, and the child watched from the small gap in the counter the cook was standing behind as another member of the kitchen staff entered the dark room. "What are you doing in here so late?" she asked curiously. Aragorn resisted the urge to cry out since she was so close, though he knew how muffled the sound would have been, as more tears rolled down his cheeks before being claimed by the rag that kept him quiet.

Aeglironion gave her a charming smile. "I regret to say I must depart Imladris tonight," he answered. "To show my gratitude for all Lord Elrond has done for me during my stay here, I merely wish to leave him a small treat for the morrow."

The dark-haired cook's face visibly fell. "Must you leave?" she wondered, taking a step closer to him. However, she paused when Aeglironion raised a hand.

"I am afraid I must," he told her, his smile lingering. "There are other matters that are demanding my attention." He then reached across the counter and took her hand, leaving a light kiss on her fingers. "It is true when I say I will miss such wonderful company."

Aragorn wrinkled his nose and looked away at the affectionate display, knowing it was probably not genuine. However, what the child was not expecting was how close he was sitting to the cupboard. His head hit the wooden surface as he turned it, making a soft _thump_, and he bit down hard on the rag in his mouth and shut his eyes tightly to prevent his quiet whimper of pain from escaping as he released the cook's leg. The boy's heart raced anxiously as tears slipped from behind his eyelids, remembering his captor's threat.

There was a tense moment of silence where Aeglironion stiffened slightly as the female cook looked around the dark kitchen with confusion. "What was that?" she wondered.

Aeglironion forced a smile as he chuckled quietly. "I simply bumped my knee," he explained, tightening his hold on her hand slightly so she would not move. "Nothing to fret about."

Aragorn cautiously opened his eyes, a moment passing before he slowly released the breath he was holding when the other cook seemed to believe Aeglironion's explanation. For the time being, his family and friends would be safe. However, it was not long after more meaningless conversation when she politely excused herself, and the child's heart sank as he watched his chance of freedom disappear into the darkness.

Once she was gone, the doors closing behind her, the feigned smile vanished from Aeglironion's face as he quickly turned to Aragorn. The child cowered under his heated gaze, curling in on himself a little. The fair-haired cook knelt before him, pulling the rag from his mouth but quickly covering it with his hand.

"If you make one loud sound or call for help, the consequences will be the same. Am I understood?" Aeglironion murmured. When Aragorn nodded quickly in silent response, he cautiously lowered his hand, seeming pleased when the boy dared not utter any sound. "What did I tell you about alerting her to your presence?

Aragorn's eyes widened fearfully. "I'm sowwy!" he protested. "I didn't mean to. It was an acc'dent!"

Aeglironion studied his small captive for another long moment before sighing, returning the rag to Aragorn's mouth. He then tore off a strip from the end of his cloak, and despite how the child struggled, managed to tie his hands together. He rose to his feet, his light eyes narrowing slightly as they passed over the pastry crust.

"I have no more time," he muttered to himself, frustration lacing his tone. "My presence here has been alerted. No doubt Glorfindel will be on my trail." Aeglironion glanced down at Aragorn once more. "Your father is fortunate, _tithen pen_. At least for now. Mayhap some other mean will present itself, but we must be on our way."

Aragorn shook his head as the cook stepped closer, an action that was ignored as Aeglironion effortlessly picked him up from the floor with one arm before swiftly leaving the kitchens.

* * *

><p><em>Elrond leaned on the railing of the porch, a smile gracing his fair features as he watched Glorfindel run around with his young sons in front of their house. He chuckled quietly when Elladan, the slightly bolder of the two, climbed up to sit on the golden-haired Elf's shoulders while Elrohir clung tightly to his leg when their nemesis attempted to walk. Erestor stood near his lord, impassively watching the game the Balrog Slayer and the twins were engaged in, though an amused glint appeared in his dark eyes when the Elflings managed to bring Glorfindel to the ground.<em>

_The lord of Imladris then glanced down when a gentle hand took his, his smile broadening as he turned to face a beaming Celebrían. Elrond pulled his fair-haired wife closer, wrapping a secure arm around her as she rested her head on his chest while they continued to watch their children. Celebrían laughed when Glorfindel began to tickle Elladan and Elrohir in retaliation, winding her arms around Elrond as he ran a hand lightly through her hair._

_However, the sound of the twins' cheerful laughter slowly trailed off, and Elrond raised his gaze when a couple alarmed shouts came from the trees. Celebrían lifted her head as Glorfindel rose to his feet, and she pulled away from her husband when Elladan and Elrohir hurried up the porch steps to her, enfolding them both in her arms. Elrond took a step closer to his family, his intense gray eyes not moving from the gate of his realm, while Erestor moved to stand beside him._

_Glorfindel joined a few guards who approached to see what was happening while Amonost and a couple other members of the patrol who had been set in the forest for that night entered through the gate. The young soldier was supporting a weary fair-haired Elf who was not quite able to walk on his own._

_Elrond took a step forward, pausing for a moment when he felt Celebrían take his hand once more. He gave her fingers a reassuring squeeze before releasing her hand, turning his attention to the guards as he swiftly walked down the porch steps. Glorfindel fell into place beside him as they approached Amonost, and they both looked over the ailing Elf carefully._

_"Who are you?" Elrond asked once he saw he was conscious._

_The fair-haired Elf slowly raised his gaze to meet Elrond's, taking a deep breath. "Ae... Aeglironion, _hír-nín_," he answered quietly, his tone weak with exhaustion. "I... I had to leave my home..."_

_Elrond glanced at Glorfindel before turning back to Aeglironion. "Where do you hail from?"_

_Aeglironion appeared ready to answer, but his light eyes closed as he limply fell toward the ground. The lord of Imladris immediately reached out and caught him before he could, quickly taking him into his arms as he hurried back toward the house, Glorfindel following behind._

The Elf lord remembered that day clearly. Once Aeglironion had regained consciousness, he still had not spoken of where he had hailed from or why he had left. Elrond had not pushed him, but never being one to turn away anyone in need, he had allowed him to stay in Imladris while he recovered from the exhaustion he had suffered. During his stay, Aeglironion proved he possessed a talent for food preparation, and once he was revived, Elrond had offered him a place to stay among the kitchen staff since it appeared he had no where else to go. From that day on, Aeglironion had served as one of their most respected cooks.

However, now that the Elf lord was reflecting on it, he could not shake the feeling that he had known Aeglironion before he appeared in Rivendell, or at least been acquainted with him, but could not remember where. Regardless, nothing he could think of provided any insight to the cook's current actions against him and Thranduil.

"_Ada_."

The voice of his youngest son brought him out of his thoughts, and Elrond turned to see a concerned Elrohir looking back at him. "Thranduil," he muttered in answer to the Elf lord's silent question.

Elrond glanced past Elrohir to the bed, his own worry increasing when he heard the Mirkwood king's quiet gasps as he struggled to breathe. Legolas sat beside him, holding one of Thranduil's hands in one of his while he dabbed at his pale, sweat-drenched face with a damp cloth he had been given with his other. The fear the prince felt was clear in his gaze, which faltered with each shallow breath his father took.

"Elrohir, prepare some mint," Elrond said as he turned back to the herbs that were sitting in front of him. Athelas and the poison Aeglironion had used against Thranduil. There was so little of the latter the Elf lord was still unsure if it would make a difference, but if he did not attempt to create some antidote, he was certain his friend would not see the light of morning.

"Is this _all_ Amonost mentioned?" Elrond asked as Elrohir hurriedly began to prepare what his father requested, glancing at where his advisor was sitting stiffly in the cushioned chair beneath the window.

Erestor met his lord's gaze. "That is what Glorfindel said, Lord Elrond," he answered quietly with a slight nod.

Elrond sighed, passing a hand over his face while his weary gaze passed over the scarce materials he had to work with for a long moment. He could feel Erestor's dark eyes on him with concern, but he ignored it. Attempting to cast his own doubts aside, the Elf lord began to crush both the athelas and the poison in hopes he would be granted some result.

Suddenly, he heard a quiet but startled gasp from behind him, and the Elf lord quickly turned over his shoulder. Legolas was looking down on his father with horror, and Elrond hurried over to the bed with Erestor close behind. "What is it, _penneth_?"

The prince, however, only shook his head slightly as he tightened his hand around his father's. Without waiting for an answer, Elrond quickly turned his gray eyes to Thranduil, noticing his closed eyes were narrowed slightly in distress as his shallow breath quickened. The lord of Imladris leaned forward a bit and lightly placed his hand on the king's deathly pale forehead, concerned by the heat he felt radiating from it. His fever had not lowered, even after the herbs he had been given.

But what concerned him the most was the slightly blueish tint Thranduil's lips had taken on. He couldn't breathe.

"All haste with the mint, Elrohir," Elrond muttered, attempting to keep his tone steady. "Mayhap more chamomile to soothe the fever."

Elrohir glanced up from where he was already preparing the mint. "Aye, _Ada_."

"It will aid him?" Legolas wondered, looking at Elrond hopefully.

Elrond met the prince's concerned gaze, giving him a small, hopefully reassuring smile. "It will counteract the symptoms of the poison until I create the antidote," he confirmed.

Legolas appeared to be appeased by his answer as he nodded once. He moved his gaze back to his father, ignoring Elrond's comforting hand on his arm. But then, the Mirkwood Elf stiffened as the Elf lord quickly turned back to the bed.

Thranduil's eyes were wide open, looking up at them with clear panic. He opened and closed his mouth a couple times as though attempting to speak, but no sound was heard.

"Calm yourself, _mellon-nín_," Elrond said, setting both hands on the king's arms to make Thranduil look at him. "Can you tell me what is ailing you?"

The Mirkwood king did not respond, the anxiousness not leaving his eyes. Legolas then leaned closer, brushing a few strands of Thranduil's hair back from his sweat-drenched face. "I am here, _Ada_," he muttered calmly while Erestor took a step closer to him. "I am here."

Thranduil immediately turned his attention to the prince as he tightened his ringed fingers around his, his faraway eyes remaining on his son's face. Legolas attempted to give him a smile, but the look vanished immediately when the king's eyes closed again. He looked up at Elrond anxiously, who turned to Elrohir with a pointed glance.

"Ready, _Ada_," the younger twin told him, hurrying toward the bed with the bowl of crushed mint.

Elrond quickly took it as he turned back to the prince. "Legolas, I need you to-!"

But he was interrupted when a sudden cry of fear escaped from the Mirkwood prince. Elrond looked at Thranduil, watching with horror as he gave a couple more gasps before his hand went limp around his son's as his head lolled onto his pillow, the sound of his harsh breaths quieting.

He had stopped breathing.

**Author's Note**: *hides from readers* I'd like to take a moment to say that if you guys cause the writer any bodily harm, the next chapter will come much slower, lol! Um, yeah. I know I'm terrible. But, we'll see how things turn out with time now running out. Will Thranduil be all right? We'll have to find out ;) On a lighter note, I may have to write more with Elrond and Celebrían at some point. They're fun, lol! Also thanks to **Gwed** for the sites on herbs. They were helpful! Anyway, thanks for reading! Your reviews are much appreciated. Thanks!


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer**: Those you recognize belong to Tolkien. I do not own them. Those you do not recognize belong to me.

**Summary**: Gaining the friendship of a mortal child was not something Thranduil expected on his trip to Imladris with his son. But when secret plots result in grave consequences, the boy may be the king's one hope of survival.

**Author's Note**: *cautiously peeks out from hiding spot* Hey, everyone! Sorry that it took me a bit to update. School has kept me very busy, and some parts of this chapter weren't being cooperative. *glares at Erestor* Lol anyway, I'm thrilled with the response to the last one! Thank you to **PatonxJulia**, **gginsc**, **Gwedhiel0117**, **Lou-deadfroggy**, **The Pearl Maiden**, **Elven Warrior Princess**, **Doreen**, and **DreamingIn2Eternity** for your reviews! I greatly appreciate them, and I'm glad you're enjoying this story so much! Oh, and this is officially what I like to call the "chapter o' guilt." You'll see what I mean :P Haha. Also, since it's taken me a while, this chapter is also a bit on the longer side, so hopefully it makes up for it. It's a bit information-heavy, so not too much action, but there are a couple clues in here that relate to Aeglironion. Again, no slash intended. Enjoy and happy hunting!

Elvish:

_ada_- father  
><em>ion-nín<em>- my son  
><em>mellon-nín<em>- my friend  
><em>penneth<em>- young one  
><em>hannon le<em>- thank you  
><em>tithen pen<em>- little one

_Chapter 6_

_Legolas sat against the wall in one of the upstairs hallways of the palace, legs held close to his chest securely. His breath hitched slightly as tears rolled freely but silently down his cheeks. A dull, throbbing pain spread through his ankle from when he had turned it while chasing his friends, and now, all he wanted was his father. The cheerful laughter of the other Elflings had long since trailed off, and he was left alone in the silence of the hall, which frightened him the most. A quiet sob escaped from him as he closed his eyes tightly, pulling his legs even closer._

_"_Ada_..." he murmured, resting his head on his knees._

_The young prince was unsure how long he sat curled against the wall, his small form shaking slightly with every sob as tears continued to fall from behind his closed eyes, before a pair of strong yet gentle hands landed on his shoulders. Legolas instantly knew who those hands belonged to without raising his gaze as the comfort they provided steadied his breathing. His tears slowed when he heard the deep, timbre voice he knew better than any other say his name, seeming to simply know of his distress. The Elfling then turned into the figure's warm embrace, the feel of his arms wrapped securely around him calming him even more._

_He was no longer alone._

_Legolas closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as he rested his head on the older Elf's shoulder. The rhythmic motion of the slight rise and fall of the sturdy chest beneath him soothed away any remaining tension, everything about the figure so familiar. While enfolded in his arms, Legolas knew he was safe from any harm._

_"My ankle," the prince mumbled, not raising his head or opening his eyes as the figure effortlessly lifted his small form when he rose to his feet._

_The figure gave a quiet chuckle, the sound reverberating close to the Elfling in his arms. "You must be more careful_, ion-nín_," he said. "Do not fret. It shall not be difficult to mend."_

_Legolas nodded, tightening his arms around the figure as he made his way down the dark hallway. As long as he was there, the prince knew there was nothing he needed to be afraid of. As long as his father was there, he knew everything would be all right._

"_Ada_!"

Legolas barely heard the word rip from his mouth for it sounded distant, as though it broke through another's lips. His panicked eyes only held his father's ashen face, void of all expression, and he didn't notice the tears that were burning in his eyes until they obscured his vision of the lifeless king. He anxiously reached for Thranduil, but a pair of arms wrapped around him from behind and began to pull him away from the bed.

The prince resisted. He could not be taken from his father's side. Not now. But the arms were relentless, and Legolas soon found himself on his feet and being led further away from Thranduil. The fair-haired Elf turned, finding himself wrapped in the arms of Imladris' chief advisor.

Erestor's face was set in a hard mask, though his dark eyes betrayed his fear for the king's life, as he kept a secure hold on the young Mirkwood monarch. Legolas continued to struggle, which he had anticipated, but the dark-haired Elf held him back with a strength it did not appear his thin frame possessed. The advisor inwardly winced when a burning pain began to slowly spread from his left side, but he did not release the prince.

"No... _Ada_. _Ada_, please..."

Legolas' struggling began to calm, his voice coming out as hardly more than a broken whisper, as Erestor turned his attention to supporting the younger Elf when his legs grew weak. A few tears slid down his cheeks despite his efforts to restrain them, and the fair-haired prince leaned into his friend's hold. Erestor pulled Legolas close, taking a deep breath as he turned to his lord.

Elrond had been spurred into action as soon as Thranduil had drawn his last breath. The Elf lord immediately pulled the pillow out from under the king's head so he was lying flat, tossing it aside before tilting his head back. Elrohir began to take a step closer to his father, pausing when he caught slight movement out of the corner of his eye as he watched a couple leaves fall from Thranduil's crown.

The younger twin then quickly approached the bed as Elrond began pushing down on the king's chest after giving him some air, desperately wanting to do _something _to aid him. Legolas watched anxiously as the lord of Imladris breathed into his father a second time, shaking slightly in Erestor's arms when he moved back to the compressions.

Finally, after a couple more attempts at getting him to breathe on his own, Thranduil's chest rose and fell slightly on its own accord. Elrond remained close, watching his friend intently for a moment before his eyes closed in relief when the golden-haired monarch continued to take shallow, erratic breaths.

But at least he was breathing.

Elrohir took a step back away from the bed, closing his eyes as well. Erestor released the breath he hadn't realized he had been holding as he kept a firm hold on Legolas, who appeared as though he would collapse if he didn't. The prince's face was pale, his damp eyes not straying from his father.

Elrond sighed as he picked up the pillow he had carelessly discarded before gently lifting Thranduil's head and situating it comfortably beneath him. He then sat down beside the king and took one of his ringed hands in his, focusing on transferring some of his healing strength to his friend.

_Keep fighting, Thranduil. I will aid you. Keep fighting for a little longer..._

"The mint, Elrohir," he said softly, his intense gaze not moving from Thranduil's pale face.

The younger twin quickly sat beside his father, glancing at him with concern when he recognized what the Elf lord was now doing. But he knew better than to question him, and Elrohir took some of the crushed mint he had prepared and ran it along Thranduil's gum line. They did not want to take another unnecessary risk with his irregular breathing.

"What of the poison we found, _Ada_?" Elrohir wondered quietly, hesitant to break Elrond's concentration.

The lord of Imladris' gaze had begun to grow distant as he continued to pour his strength into Thranduil, but this dark eyes regained focus at the soft sound of his son's voice. "Prepare it." His voice, usually strong and steady, wavered slightly. "Along with the athelas. As Amonost said."

Legolas let out a quiet, shaking breath, though his eyes were still filled with fear as he watched Elrond carefully. His father, the skilled and fierce warrior he knew, the proud king who did not hesitate to defend his people from the increasing Shadow, was losing the fight against the poison in his system. And it absolutely terrified him. The Elf lord beside Thranduil was now at the forefront of the battle, the outcome resting in his hands.

Erestor worried his bottom lip between his teeth as he studied Elrond closely, concerned for his lord and friend as he continued to willingly give the Mirkwood monarch his own strength. He had done this before to restore the health of those close to his heart, but exhausting his own spirit had a significant impact on Elrond as well.

Then, the chief advisor quickly looked over his shoulder when he heard near silent footsteps, watching as Glorfindel entered the room. The golden-haired warrior's face was impassive, though his intense gaze reflected otherwise. He appeared to be about to say something, but he paused when he noticed Legolas in Erestor's arms, leaning heavily on him for support. Fear entering his gaze, the Balrog Slayer hurried forward, placing his hand on the younger Elf's back.

"Legolas, _penneth_..."

"Peace, Glorfindel," Erestor muttered. "Thranduil had stopped breathing, but Elrond managed to revive him." Legolas tensed slightly at his words.

Worry lingered in Glorfindel's eyes as he turned to the bed, his gaze faltering slightly when he saw Elrond sitting slightly slumped beside Thranduil, his eyes closed. He then turned to the prince, squeezing his shoulder in a reassuring way as Legolas straightened himself out of Erestor's hold, though he still lingered near them.

"Any news?" the thin advisor asked quietly.

Glorfindel nodded once as he turned to the dark-haired Elf. "I was returning from setting the perimeter, and one of our cooks was leaving the kitchens," he answered. "She was about to begin the preparations of the morning meal, and she told me Aeglironion was there. From what she could see, he was about to prepare some sort of pastry for Elrond."

Erestor stiffened slightly, his dark eyes narrowing. "Was it poisoned?"

"Nay," Glorfindel said, causing relief to cross the advisor's face as he closed his eyes for a moment. "I inspected it carefully, and it appeared she interrupted him."

"Thankfully," Erestor murmured, passing a hand over his face. He then glanced at Legolas, sighing when he saw the conflict raging in his blue eyes. The fear for his father was still prevalent, as was the relief that he was breathing once more. But anger had also entered his gaze, anger at Aeglironion for poisoning Thranduil. "We must create that antidote."

Glorfindel's gaze hardened. "Aeglironion will not slip past the perimeter," he told him with determination. A hint of a smile curled the corner of Erestor's lips.

"... Elrond."

The Elf lord, so focused on sending his healing strength to the king, was startled by the sudden quiet voice. His eyes quickly opened, and a small smile crossed his weary features when he saw Thranduil's eyes had opened halfway and found his face. "It is good to see you, _mellon-nín_," he muttered, squeezing his ringed hand slightly with relief.

Thranduil attempted to return the smile. "Save your... strength," he replied just as quietly. "I will... be all right."

Elrond chuckled. "You are in need of it more, Thranduil."

"_Ada_!"

Thranduil immediately turned his head to the right while Elrond looked up, his smile broadening when Legolas sat on the bed beside him, taking his other hand in both of his. "_Ion-nín_..." The prince smiled in return, a thin line of tears forming in his eyes.

"I am relieved you are awake, _Ada_," Legolas muttered, his smile lingering.

The king chuckled quietly, causing him to cough a couple times. His smile returned when he felt his son's hands tighten around his. "I will... be all right, _penneth_," he replied. "Do not fret..."

A small smile appeared on Elrond's face as he watched the Mirkwood monarchs, keeping his hold on the elder's other hand. Though he could provide Thranduil with a sufficient amount of strength with his restorative touch, it was not the same as the healing presence his son could give.

Thranduil sighed before he turned his gaze back to the Elf lord, his eyes narrowing slightly in a thoughtful way. "Aeglironion..." he said, meeting Elrond's gaze. "I remember..."

Elrond raised his eyebrow as he leaned forward a little, tightening his hold on the king's hand. "What do you remember, Thranduil?" he asked, knowing any information on the traitorous cook would be crucial. "What is it, _mellon-nín_?"

"Greenwood..." Thranduil's brow furrowed as he struggled to recall the memory. "After the Last Alliance... You were with me..."

The Elf lord thoughtfully worried his bottom lip between his teeth. For the life of him, he could not remember encountering Aeglironion in the Woodland Realm while it still bore the name of Greenwood. He did recall it had been a turbulent time, for a devastated Thranduil had been forced to take up the crown the fallen Oropher had been chosen to wear, and his own heart had been heavily burdened with the loss of the High King Gil-galad and the failed strength of Men. He had offered his support to the new king of the Wood during the rough days some time after his coronation, but he did not remember anything involving the cook.

"We have been told Aeglironion hailed from Mirkwood," Erestor said gently, taking a couple steps closer to the bed as its occupant turned his weary gaze to him. "Are you certain of this?"

"Amonost said he first encountered Aeglironion when they were called for the Last Alliance," Glorfindel added, joining Erestor.

Thranduil nodded. "Aeglironion... soldier..." he confirmed.

"Though if he was from Greenwood, why would he wait so long before he arrived in Imladris?" Elrohir wondered from where he was preparing the poison and athelas. "And say he was from Mirkwood?"

"Amonost may have simply referred to the Wood's current state," Glorfindel suggested. "I... may have shaken him more than I intended." Erestor smirked.

"Or Aeglironion wanted us to forget," Elrond suddenly muttered.

Legolas' wondering gaze traveled to the Elf lord, seeing his fair features had hardened. "Elrond?"

Elrond glanced at the Mirkwood prince. "There were many important matters we were occupied with during that time," he explained. "Waiting as long as he did to arrive here in Imladris only aided in our fading memories. Amonost telling us Aeglironion hailed from Mirkwood was a distraction from the truth at hand, forcing us to seek answers elsewhere. From a different time." He met Thranduil's gaze. "You are absolutely certain he was in Greenwood?"

Thranduil nodded, and the Elf lord sighed as he lowered his gaze thoughtfully. A moment later, realization flared in his gray eyes before he closed them, passing a hand over his face. "Of course..." He paused, slowly opening his eyes again. "The fault for this is mine."

Elrohir quickly looked up from the hopefully beneficial mixture he had been studying, staring at his father with horror. "_Ada_!"

"Elrond, do not say something so foolish," Glorfindel added, setting his hand on the Elf lord's shoulder. "The fault lies with Aeglironion, _mellon-nín_, not you."

However, the lord of Imladris only smiled slightly at the golden-haired warrior's insistence, though it had a somber feel, and he looked into Legolas' bewildered face for a moment before turning his attention back to Thranduil. He chuckled quietly when the king shook his head with vehemence, his weary light eyes narrowed in determination.

"You know this as well as I, _mellon-nín_," Elrond murmured.

Thranduil shook his head again. "It was I who made the..." he began, but he was interrupted when rapid footsteps drew nearer to the room. Glorfindel and Erestor quickly turned to the door while Legolas, Elrohir and Thranduil looked up, Elrond slowly starting to rise to his feet when his oldest son quickly entered. His gray eyes were wide with panic.

"Elladan, what-!"

"Estel is missing!" Elladan said anxiously, causing Elrond to abruptly pause. "His room is in disarray. I fear he is in danger. He... he may have been taken. I could not find him."

A stunned silence hung over the room's occupants. The child was missing? Dread gripped Erestor's heart. He had no doubt in his mind that Aeglironion had taken him. But what he did not understand was why.

The thin advisor then glanced at Glorfindel when slight movement caught his eye. The Balrog Slayer's body had stiffened, and though his fair face remained impassive, his jaw had set firmly, and his light eyes smoldered. His hand lingered near the hilt of his sword, fingers slowly clenching and unclenching repeatedly.

"Glorfindel-!" Erestor began quietly, sighing when his friend quickly left the room in a flurry of cloak and golden hair, soon disappearing from sight. He glanced back at the shaken Elf lord, his dark eyes saddening before he sighed once more and left the room as well with Elladan close behind.

Elrond weakly sank back to the bed, looking down at his free hand in disbelief for a moment. He then slowly turned to his other son, whose eyes continued to move to the door with worry. "Go, Elrohir," he said in nearly above a whisper.

Elrohir met his father's gaze, his body relaxing slightly when he received a reassuring nod before he set the small bowl down and hurried toward the door.

Thranduil watched the younger twin leave with angered, narrowed eyes before turning to his own child, his gaze saddening when he saw the turmoil in the prince's face. He could almost feel the conflict raging inside him, the longing to stay by his side but also the desire to aid the mortal boy he had grown to love.

"Go on, Legolas," Thranduil told him, adding a note of authority to his tone. Since he could do nothing to aid in the recovery of the child, the least he could do was send his son in his stead. He wanted nothing more than the small mortal who had grown on him to be safely returned.

Legolas was startled as he met the king's gaze. "But, _Ada_..."

Thranduil shook his head, causing Legolas to stop as a small smile appeared on his face. "You will not do me or yourself any good by sitting here in such distress, _ion-nín_," he muttered, running his thumb over the younger Elf's hand. "Go... Estel needs you..."

"I should be with you, _Ada_," Legolas replied, tightening his fingers around Thranduil's hand. The apprehension he felt at leaving his father was clear.

The king's smile broadened slightly. "I shall still be here on your return," he assured him. "Go on."

Legolas still appeared hesitant to leave his father's side, but when Thranduil squeezed his hand slightly, he sighed and reluctantly released his. "I shall not be long, _Ada_." The prince then rose to his feet, glancing back at the king one more time before hurrying from the room.

Thranduil sighed as he watched Legolas leave, his smile slowly vanishing as he turned back to the Elf lord sitting by his side. His gaze faltered when he saw the fear in Elrond's eyes, along with the anger and sorrow as they fought to gain prominence in his weary and troubled countenance. He tightened his hand around the one that still held his, causing his friend to turn to him curiously.

"Estel will be all right," Thranduil muttered. He knew how much the lord of Imladris loved the mortal boy he was fostering, as well as how he considered him his own son. As a father himself, the king fully understood the unrivaled panic from knowing one's child was in danger. His son had put him in the same position countless times.

Though along with empathy, Thranduil could not quell a sudden feeling of guilt. If he were not so weak due to the poison that afflicted him, knowing he still lingered in Arda only because of the healing strength his friend was willingly sacrificing, Elrond could be searching for his foster son. Instead, the Elf lord was trapped at his bedside and forced to care for him. The Mirkwood monarch could hardly recall the last time he had felt such frustration at himself.

A small smile appeared on Elrond's face as he smiled slightly, squeezing Thranduil's hand in return. "_Hannon le_," he whispered, though the fear slipped through in his tone despite how he tried to withhold it. He closed his eyes for a moment before he once more began to rise to his feet. "Let us see what Elrohir has prepared."

* * *

><p>Erestor slowly sat on the end of his bed, closing his eyes as he sighed when he heard Glorfindel's urgent orders to search the house and the surrounding area echoing from the hall. He hung his head slightly, placing his hand lightly on his left side. Restraining Legolas while Elrond had attempted to revive Thranduil had aggravated his stab wound, the area still throbbing with pain. Fortunately, it was not bleeding much from what he could tell, and he would stitch and rewrap the wound himself later. Though Thranduil had recovered slightly from his close encounter with the Halls of Mandos, Elrond had to devote his healing strength to the king instead of something so minor.<p>

The thin advisor's mind wandered back to Legolas. Though he was concerned about Elrond exhausting himself, he was also grateful that the Elf lord had been able to stabilize Thranduil somewhat. He was certain the Mirkwood prince may have faded had his father died.

_"Estel is missing!"_

Erestor's closed eyes narrowed slightly before they opened when Elladan's panicked words echoed in his mind. _Estel is missing_. His left hand clenched tightly on his knee. Those three words heavily burdened his heart, leaving behind a sense of gnawing fear. He was just a child. What threat was he to Aeglironion? Why would he take the boy? He had no part in what was happening.

With another sigh, Erestor slowly rose to his feet, pausing for a moment when the pain in his side flared. Once it passed, he walked across the room to the closet he used for storage, eyeing the door warily. He hesitated for a moment before he reached out, brushing the handle with slender fingers before grasping it and pulling it open.

Darkness greeted him, and Erestor stood in the doorway as his intense gaze scanned the shelves filled with blank parchment, extra quills, vials of ink, and stacks of organized paperwork. The familiar sight eased his heart slightly, but the feeling vanished as he carefully stepped inside. His dark eyes passed over the instruments of his daily tasks, now ignored due to the threats against the lord of Imladris and the Mirkwood king, as he approached the back wall, sighing as his gaze lingered on the second shelf from the bottom. The thin advisor uncertainly reached forward, his fingers seeking the thin sheets of blank parchment that he required for his work.

However, that familiarity was not granted to him, and Erestor instead began to slowly push the piles aside. He instantly stopped when something caught his eye in the faint moonlight filtering into the closet, his jaw firmly setting as he hesitantly grasped the slightly curved handle of what he kept hidden behind the parchment.

It was a Noldorin dagger, as light as any Elven-crafted weapon, protected by a worn, thin sheath. The advisor slid it out a bit to reveal the intricately designed blade it contained, the dark handle fitting perfectly in his palm.

The weapon may have been beautiful, but it was a sure omen of death, a silent killer.

It had tasted its share of blood.

Erestor was all too aware of that.

"_Mellon-nín_."

The chief advisor's dark gaze faltered slightly at the strong yet gentle voice that suddenly pervaded the room. It was one he heard often, and he found himself glad for it.

Erestor glanced over his shoulder at Glorfindel, standing in the dark doorway of the closet with concern etched in his fair features. The twice-born warrior opened his mouth to say something more, but then his eyes landed on what was resting in the dark-haired Elf's slightly shaking hands, and his face paled.

Without another word, Glorfindel walked forward and stopped beside the advisor, who steadily met his worried gaze with an unreadable one, his eyes a little too bright. "Erestor, _mellon-nín_," he muttered, briefly glancing up at the second shelf where the dagger's twin remained. "Why..." His inquiry trailed off when the other Elf looked away from him, his eyes resting on the weapon he held.

"Glorfindel," he replied just as quietly after a moment. "I vowed I would not use these again..."

With a quiet sigh, Glorfindel reached forward and lifted the weapon from his loose grasp. "Not this day, Erestor," he said with a note of authority, slipping the sheathe back over the blade securely before setting the dagger back on the shelf beside the second.

Erestor watched as his friend moved the stacks of blank parchment so they were once again concealing the weapons. "But Estel..."

"There is no need." Glorfindel turned back to the dark-haired Elf with a small smile on his face. "The perimeter has been set. Aeglironion will not get far." When Erestor didn't respond, he set his arm on the advisor's thin arm. "Come. Let us get Estel."

Sighing heavily, Erestor nodded once, and Glorfindel was relieved to feel the muscles in his body relax slightly. He lowered his hand and walked toward the open door of the closet, but he paused when the other Elf did not follow.

"Erestor..."

"It was I who left Estel alone," Erestor muttered, seemingly to no one in particular since he could not meet the twice-born warrior's gaze. "If I had kept him with us, this would not have happened."

Glorfindel's gaze faltered as he watched the slender advisor for a moment before he slowly walked back to him. Before he could say anything, however, Erestor continued in nearly a whisper.

"I left him unprotected..."

The Balrog Slayer immediately reached out and grabbed his friend by the arms, ignoring the startled look he received in return. Glorfindel then briefly glanced up at the shelf where he knew the daggers were concealed before turning back to the other Elf's wide, dark eyes. He had only seen him near this state of mind a couple times before, and it always greatly worried him. "Do not say such things, Erestor," he hissed fiercely. "Do not place the blame on yourself, _mellon-nín_, when it is unneeded. Aeglironion is at fault. You knew not what he would do."

Glorfindel paused as Erestor simply looked back at him, appearing too dumbfounded to respond. "Please, _mellon-nín_..."

A moment passed before the chief advisor suddenly straightened up, the shocked look on his face quickly replaced with his usual annoyed glare. "Release me, Glorfindel," he said sharply, attempting to shove the golden-haired warrior away.

Smirking, Glorfindel was quick to oblige as Erestor began to straighten the sleeves of his dark tunic. This was the irritable Elf he knew. "Let us get Estel, shall we?" he wondered.

Erestor evenly met his gaze. "What are we still standing around for?" he countered, turning from the twice-born Elf before he swiftly left the storage closet.

Glorfindel chuckled quietly as he began to follow him, but he paused in the doorway as he turned back to the shelves on the back wall. His eyes narrowed slightly when they landed on the stacks of blank parchment. He could not recall the last time he had seen Erestor even hold the weapons he kept hidden, and the fact he had been dwelling on it concerned him. He was just relieved he had found the advisor when he did.

But now, there were greater concerns he had to deal with. Glorfindel felt his body tense when he thought of Aeglironion, and he rested his hand on the handle of his sword as he shut the closet door behind him.

* * *

><p>Aragorn winced when he was set roughly on a white horse Aeglironion found in the stables, struggling to hold back tears as he worked at the strip of cloak that bound his hands. The horse shifted nervously, and though the traitorous Elf began to attempt to soothe it, the creature still seemed to be unsettled. A tear escaped from the child's eye, but he reached out with his tied hands and began to run his small fingers through the horse's mane before he leaned forward and rested his head against its neck. It was the most he could do with the rag in his mouth.<p>

Aeglironion watched the boy curiously, a little surprised when the horse slowly began to calm, finally giving a disgruntled whinny. "Well done, _tithen pen_," he said with a slight smirk. "Very well done."

A moment passed before Aragorn slowly opened his tear-filled eyes, keeping his tight hold on the horse while Aeglironion climbed up onto the steed behind him. The cook smirked, leaning close to the child's ear. "As it seems I am unable to fulfill my plan against your father due to your interference," he murmured, "then at least I am able to hurt him by taking you, Estel. He has as much reason to suffer as Thranduil does." He paused thoughtfully. "Mayhap it would be more suitable for Elrond to endure the anguish of losing a child."

Aragorn involuntarily shuddered as he closed his eyes, his small hands clenching into fists around the horse's mane as a few tears rolled down his cheeks despite his efforts to restrain them. Never before had he longed for his foster father as he did now. He longed for the security of his embrace, to be wrapped securely in his warm arms, to be comforted by the sound of his strong, steady heartbeat.

"_A-a_..." he mumbled through the rag as a muffled sob escaped from him.

Aeglironion's smirk broadened as he took the reins. "Call out for him all you want, Estel," he told him, urging the horse forward. "He will not hear you."

Aragorn's small form trembled at this thought, seeing Elrond's kind, smiling face in his mind's eye. He felt the cool air on his face as they left the stables, and he opened his eyes and turned to look over his shoulder at the house he had lived in for the past couple years, for he knew it would be the last time he would ever set eyes on it.

**Author's Note**: And I'll just stop it here ;) Lol! Man, this chapter kicked my butt :P But, at least it's been finished! Aeglironion's one cruel Elf, isn't he? Poor Estel. I've probably only given you more questions about this traitorous Elf, haven't I? Lol! Never fear, they will be answered soon :) Thanks for reading! Your reviews are much appreciated. Thank you!


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer**: Those you recognize belong to Tolkien. I do not own them. Those you do not recognize belong to me.

**Summary**: Gaining the friendship of a mortal child was not something Thranduil expected on his trip to Imladris with his son. But when secret plots result in grave consequences, the boy may be the king's one hope of survival.

**Author's Note**: Wow! Talk about an unexpected response to that last chapter, lol. Many, many thanks to **PatonxJulia**, **The Pearl Maiden**, **Gwedhiel0117**, **Elven Warrior Princess**, **SiriusBlackFan2**, **Zammy**, **aronoiiel**, **Doreen**, and **iccle fairy** for all of your reviews on multiple chapters. You guys are awesome! I'm glad you liked the last chapter, and the story overall, so much! Sorry this took me so long to get up. Besides school, a certain Elf prince was giving me difficulties this time. *glares at Legolas* Hopefully it doesn't disappoint! This one is also a bit on the longer side, just for you guys! Lol. Also, special shoutout to **Gwed**, who inspired a scene toward the end that I think you'll all enjoy. And absolutely no slash, as always. Anyway, enjoy!

Elvish:

_tithen pen_- little one  
><em>ada<em>- father  
><em>talan<em>- Elvish tree house, flet  
><em>muindor<em>- brother  
><em>daro<em>- stop/halt  
><em>mellon-nín<em>- my friend  
><em>ion-nín<em>- my son

_Chapter 7_

_Legolas felt his eyes slowly begin to clear. The darkness of the room he was always given when he stayed in Imladris greeted him, but he gasped quietly when he was suddenly blinded by a bright flash of lightning, which was accompanied by a loud rumble of thunder. The prince turned to the window, watching as heavy rain pounded against the high window, having not realized it had started to storm after he had fallen asleep. He must have been exhausted after his journey from Mirkwood._

_His light eyes narrowed thoughtfully. It was not often he was disturbed by the rain, he frequently found the sound comforting, and he wondered what could have possibly woken him._

_Then, he noticed it. Legolas raised himself up on one arm, confusion entering his gaze as he looked at the small lump under the blankets near his leg. And as he looked closer, he saw that it was shaking slightly. Curious, the prince reached forward and slowly lifted the blankets, blinking with surprise when he was met with a pair of wide gray eyes._

_"Estel? What are you doing, _tithen pen_? Should you not be in bed?"_

_The small, trembling form of Aragorn remained silent for a moment, the young Mirkwood monarch just able to catch a glimpse of his pale face beneath his wild hair. His tiny fingers were clamped tightly onto the soft sheet beneath him, and he took a deep breath before he spoke. "I... I'm scawed, Legowas."_

_"Of what, Estel?" Legolas asked, concern crossing his face as he pulled the blankets back further to reveal the child who had snuck his way under them. He had known the boy for a little over a year, and the small mortal had already secured his place in his heart._

_Aragorn cautiously looked up at him. "The stowm," he breathed, glancing at the dark night outside. "Ewwadan and Ewohir awe on patwol with Gwowfy. Ewestor is stiwl in the libewwy. _Ada_ is busy..."_

_Legolas' gaze faltered, able to clearly see how afraid the child was. He began to reach toward him, but he paused when another bright flash lit the room, the loud rumble that came shortly after nearly causing the room to shake. Aragorn whimpered, curling in on himself as he shut his eyes tightly._

_"Come, Estel," Legolas said gently, reaching out and pulling the terrified four-year-old onto his lap._

_Aragorn clutched his friend's light gray night shirt so tightly his knuckles turned white as he buried his face in the Elf's sturdy chest. Legolas sighed quietly, resting his chin on top of the boy's dark hair as he gently rubbed his tense back. It was the same comforting touch his father had always used when he had run to him when he was afraid as an Elfling. The effect was also the same, and a small smile graced Legolas' face when the child in his arms slowly stopped trembling. It broadened when Aragorn cautiously looked up at him._

_"There, _tithen pen_. It is all right. The storm will not harm you."_

_"You awe not scawed?" Aragorn asked, surprise on his young face._

_Legolas carefully brushed some of the boy's dark hair out of his damp eyes. "Nay, Estel," he answered. "Not of the rain."_

_Admiration appeared in Aragorn's gray eyes. "You'we so bwave!"_

_The prince chuckled quietly. "I said not that I was fearless," he said. "I was once afraid of the storm, though time has eased that fear. When I was an Elfling, it was the darkness I feared the most. I still feel some unease from its presence."_

_Aragorn's eyes narrowed with slight confusion. "The dawk?" he repeated._

_Legolas nodded once in confirmation, his smile returning. "Do you wish to hear a story, Estel?" he wondered. If he could provide some distraction from the storm raging outside, he would gladly do so._

_Another bright flash of lighting split the sky, a low rumble of thunder following shortly after. Aragorn tensed for a moment, but then a smile appeared on his face as he looked up at the prince. "Pwease!"_

_"All right." Legolas set Aragorn down on the bed before leaning back against his pillows, his smile broadening when the child moved so he was sitting close beside him. "When I was an Elfling, my father would often bring me with him when he sought counsel with the Lord and Lady of Lothlórien. Each time he met with them to discuss agreements, I was left in the care of my friends Rúmil and Haldir, two of the Wood's guards._

_"While there one evening, Rúmil was called for the patrol, and Haldir stayed in their _talan_ with me. It was dark soon after we ate, and my father had not yet come for me. As the hour grew later, Haldir had me lie in his bed in attempt to rest until he came. I know not how much time passed while I was alone in his room as I tried to sleep, but I was afraid. That night was dark, there were no stars, and there was still no word from my father."_

_Aragorn's gray eyes were wide. "What did you do?" he asked._

_Legolas chuckled. "I left the room in search of Haldir," he answered. "He was in the study doing some sort of paperwork, too absorbed in it to notice my presence immediately. But my panicked mind took no notice that he was occupied."_

_The child tilted his head slightly. "Was Hawdir mad?" he pressed, his gray eyes widening even more._

_The prince smirked. "Thinking back, I am certain I irked him," he replied. "Though no, I would not say he was angry. He did continue to suggest I attempt to get some rest, though I would not. Soon, he abandoned his work and took me down to the kitchen, where he made some hot tea for me. My father arrived soon after to find me sitting on Haldir's lap at the table, nearly asleep."_

_Legolas paused as Aragorn laughed, ruffling the child's hair. The boy quickly straightened it out again with slight frustration before smiling up at his friend. Legolas returned it before he glanced at the window, noticing the rain had lightened with only an occasional soft rumble._

_"Couwd I stay hewe 'til _Ada_'s done with his wowk?" Aragorn suddenly asked uncertainly._

_The prince sighed quietly before nodding once, watching as the child curled against his side. "Rest well, Estel."_

Legolas secured his quiver of arrows around his torso, ensuring it was comfortable before he reached for his bow he had kept on the end of the bed. The soft white blanket brushed lightly against his fingertips, the material nearly as familiar as the sheets that covered his own bed in Mirkwood. A hint of a smile graced the prince's fair, youthful features, though all traces of it vanished as his light eyes traveled over the intricately carved weapon he held in his palm, pulling back on the string a bit with three slender fingers to test it. It was tight, but it did not offer much resistance under his usual draw.

Perfect.

_"I... I'm scawed, Legowas."_

Legolas closed his eyes for a moment, the words echoing loudly in his ears. He clearly remembered the fear the storm had caused the small mortal that night a year before, and he could not imagine how terrified he must have been now. Why Aeglironion would take the boy he still did not understand, but the reason did not matter to him as much as how he would suffer for his actions.

_"_Ada!_"_

The prince's intense eyes quickly opened, his jaw clenching angrily. The image of his father, pale and lifeless on his bed, still burned in his mind's eye. Legolas had never before seen the proud king so near to death, and that he still lingered there, so weak, terrified him. Aeglironion would suffer dearly, he would ensure that.

Fueled by his sudden ire, Legolas turned from the bed and hurried toward the door. But he paused before he could step out into the hallway, resting his hand lightly on the smooth doorframe when he felt a slight ache in his chest. _His father_. How he longed to be beside his king when he knew his presence was needed. How he desired, though he did not possess the healing touch of the lord of Imladris, to take his father's hand as though he too could share his own strength with the waning Thranduil, to offer some of his spirit to keep him with him. There was nothing he would not give to see him well again.

_"Legowas..."_

The young Mirkwood monarch sighed heavily, tightening his fingers around his bow. He could almost feel his heart being rent in two, his worry for Thranduil and his fear for Aragorn dragging him in separate directions. He was not aware how long he stood leaning against the doorframe, the ache in his chest not subsiding as he struggled with his racing thoughts. The small mortal he had grown to love and the father who had his devotion, who had been there for him in his every moment of need, both now needed him, but only one could he lend his aid to. Only one. Never had he felt so helpless, for the longer he stood in this place in constant dispute, the further both his father and his friend seemed to be pulled out of his grasp.

But had his father not told him to search for the boy? Had his father not assured him he would still remain upon his return? Legolas slowly straightened, fresh determination entering his gaze as he stepped out of the dark room. Thranduil was strong, and though he was still ill, the prince had seen some of that strength return to the king's eyes when he had spoken with him. His father would be all right. Elrond would not allow him to fall if it was in his power to support him. He had trusted the Elf lord implicitly since he was an Elfling.

Legolas sighed as he hurried down the hall. He would return to the king's side, but first, the child had to be found.

* * *

><p><em>"The fault for this is mine."<em>

Elrohir slid his sword in its sheathe that was secured tightly around his waist, sighing as he closed his weary eyes. His father's haunting words echoed in his mind, though he still could not believe them. He could not imagine what Elrond, the gentle-hearted master of Imladris, could have done to cause Aeglironion to attempt to take both his life and Thranduil's. He could not believe Elrond, his father and lord, to be capable of any sort of treachery. Surely Elrond's guilt was misplaced. Surely his father had done nothing.

But what had happened while the Elf lord was in Greenwood to make Aeglironion so enraged?

Elladan secured his quiver around him, turning to his twin expectantly. But when he noticed how stiffly the other dark-haired Elf he knew as well as he knew himself was standing, his eyes narrowed with concern. "Elrohir?"

For a moment, his younger brother did not reply. It did not even appear as though he had heard him. Sighing, Elladan approached him, placing his hand lightly on his arm. "Elrohir," he repeated firmly.

Elrohir jumped slightly under the older twin's touch, quickly turning to face him. Elladan found himself met with a pair of gray eyes so like his own, but what bothered him was the slight traces of fear he saw in them. "We will find Estel," he attempted to assure him, tightening his hold on his arm slightly.

"Aye," Elrohir agreed quietly, lowering his gaze. "Glorfindel has set the perimeter. Though that is not what troubles me, Elladan."

Worried now, Elladan took a step closer to his brother. "Then what does?" he pressed. "Tell me, _muindor_." Normally, his tie with Elrohir allowed him to be aware of his fears and doubts, but this was different. Aside from their missing foster brother, he did not know what could be troubling him.

Elrohir sighed, closing his eyes for a moment before looking back at Elladan. "You know I would not doubt _Ada_."

"_Ada_?" Elladan's gaze faltered slightly. He was concerned about their father, for he saw how exhausted Elrond had appeared when he had told the room's occupants that Aragorn was missing. But he knew that was not what his brother was now speaking of.

The younger twin slowly lowered his gaze, passing a hand over his face. "He... he places the blame of Aeglironion's actions on himself," he muttered.

Elladan sighed as he released Elrohir's arm, causing the other dark-haired Elf to look back at him curiously. "You know as well as I _Ada _would not have intentionally done something to hurt Aeglironion," he said quietly. "He is placing unneeded guilt on himself along with the pressure of sustaining Thranduil."

Elrohir smiled slightly. "Thranduil did disagree with him," he admitted.

The older twin nodded once. "I know not what Aeglironion believes _Ada _or Thranduil have done," he continued thoughtfully, "though we will find out when we bring him into custody." He paused for a moment, taking Elrohir's hand and giving it a quick but reassuring squeeze. "Let us find him. Estel needs us now."

A moment passed before Elrohir nodded in return, tightening his fingers around his brother's hand. "Aye, _muindor. _Let us find Estel."

* * *

><p>The first hint of morning light began to break the horizon as Aeglironion guided the horse past the gate and out of Rivendell. His light eyes traveled over the shadowed trees warily. The mortal child he had taken was precious to the lord of this realm, and under Glorfindel's leadership, he had anticipated to be met with some resistance. But there had been none.<p>

Aragorn took a deep, shuddering breath as tears continued to fall freely down his cheeks, his small hands keeping their tight hold on the horse's mane as he looked at the dark forest around them. Where was the patrol that he knew guarded these trees by night? They always kept his new home safe. Would they not protect him now?

But then, his heart nearly dropped as a quiet sob escaped from him when another thought crossed his mind. Did they even know he was in danger?

Aeglironion chuckled when he heard the sound. "Do not be afraid, Estel," he said, ice in his tone. "I will bring you no harm."

Aragorn shuddered at his words, unsure if he trusted them. A smirk appeared on Aeglironion's face as he continued to guide the horse however unwillingly through the trees. Then, his eyes gleamed when the faint touches of the sun's fresh rays began to filter between the trunks, lighting their way.

"Do you see that, _tithen pen_?" he asked lightly. "The sun is beginning to rise." He paused for a moment, his voice dropping to a darker tone. "Your dear friend Thranduil should be dead by now."

The small mortal's body trembled with sobs at these words. "Thwa-il..." The king had to be all right. He had tried so hard to help him. His foster father could heal anyone, he knew he could. Thranduil could not be dead.

Then, Aragorn's eyes widened slightly when he saw the brief glimpses of the sun low on the horizon between the trees, and his tears slowed a bit. His brothers had always playfully chided him for never being awake to see an Imladris sunrise, and now he understood why. It was breathtaking seeing the faint light spilling into the valley, filling him with a small sense of peace. He only wished he would be able to see another.

"_Daro_!"

Aragorn gasped quietly as Aeglironion abruptly brought the horse to a stop at the sharp command. A moment passed before the child saw forms of slender, dark-haired Elves in the shadows of the trees before them, their keen eyes and drawn arrows trained on the traitorous cook. His heart raced, filled with a sudden feeling of hope. They would protect him.

"Give us the child," the Elf who appeared to be the commander of the patrol ordered, his eyes quickly moving over Aragorn before going back to Aeglironion.

The fair-haired Elf merely smirked. "You expect me to believe you will risk the boy's life?" he asked. "You will not shoot with him so near."

There was the slightest hint of hesitation from the dark-haired Elves around him, though it was all that Aeglironion needed. He reached into the folds of his tunic, and before the Imladris patrol could respond, Aragorn flinched and whimpered fearfully when the sharp point of the cook's dagger lingered near him.

* * *

><p>Glorfindel stood at the top of the steps leading up to the house of Elrond, his intense gaze resting on the trees that lay before him. Erestor stood beside him, leaning on the railing as his dark eyes scanned the trees as well. Behind them, Elladan, Elrohir, and Legolas all paced anxiously, though the twice-born warrior took no notice. He had set the perimeter in place. If Aeglironion attempted to leave Rivendell with Aragorn, the guards should have been in wait to stop him. However, he had heard no word, and from what he knew of the traitorous Elf, he surely would not linger in Imladris so long.<p>

Erestor glanced at his golden-haired companion, sighing quietly when he saw hints of tension in his smooth, impassive features. "The guards will not allow him to leave," he muttered, seeming to know the thoughts that plagued him. "We will have Estel back."

A moment passed before Glorfindel turned to the thin advisor, a small smile curling the corner of his lips. "I know." Erestor slightly returned the smile.

Then, they both looked up when the sound of hurried hoofbeats reached their ears, and the three younger Elves stopped their restless pacing when a dark-haired guard approached on horseback, his sword drawn. "The perimeter has halted Aeglironion, Lord Glorfindel!" he announced. "He demands they let him through. He has Estel."

Glorfindel tensed as he glanced at Erestor, who clenched his jaw as he nodded once. The Balrog Slayer then turned behind him, gesturing for Elladan, Elrohir, and Legolas to follow as he hurried down the stairs. The prince immediately rushed after him, watching as the guard dismounted his horse and handed the reins to Glorfindel so he could arrive faster. Legolas momentarily paused, glancing in the direction of the stables as he wondered if he should retrieve his horse as well, but he turned back when a light hand touched his arm.

"We will follow through the trees," Elladan said quietly.

Legolas nodded, joining the twins as they hurried after Glorfindel, who was riding toward the gate with all speed. Once through, Elladan, Elrohir, and the prince quickly climbed up into the trees, nimbly leaping from branch to branch as they followed the golden-haired warrior on horseback below. The young Mirkwood monarch felt a slight smile appear on his face as he brushed past the slowly lightening leaves, his fingers and feet finding each branch as effortlessly as though by instinct. He was more comfortable in the trees' embraces than his dark-haired companions, who had trailed a little behind him, and he felt his heart begin to race as he kept in pace with Glorfindel.

The twice-born Elf soon slowed his horse to a stop, and Legolas halted on the branch above him. Peering through the leaves, his eyes narrowed slightly when he saw Aeglironion on a horse he had taken facing the guards who formed the perimeter Glorfindel had set. Elladan and Elrohir came to rest on a couple branches on either side of the prince, and the older twin quickly notched an arrow and aimed it at the traitorous Elf below. But he instantly hesitated when the cook turned to face the new arrival, the blade of the dagger he was holding lingering near a terrified Aragorn. His young foster brother was too close for him to be comfortable with the shot.

"I expected you would appear, Glorfindel," Aeglironion stated, a smirk appearing on his face when he saw the worry in the Balrog Slayer's eyes. "Do not fret. I will not bring the child to harm if you allow me to leave."

Glorfindel's gaze faltered when he saw the helpless, pleading look Aragorn was giving him, a few tears falling from his fearful gray eyes, before turning back to Aeglironion. Anger crossed his face, the smirk the other Elf wore almost taunting him as he reached for the sword on his hip. "I cannot allow that," he muttered, attempting to ignore the quiet whimper from the boy. "Not after what you have done against not only the lord of this realm, but also the king of Mirkwood."

Aeglironion's smirk broadened as he sighed, turning his gaze to Aragorn sitting in front of him. The boy looked back up at him, shaking his head anxiously when the cook moved his dagger closer to him while he ran his slender fingers lightly through his dark tresses. "Pity. I was growing rather fond of the child."

The golden-haired warrior instantly drew his sword, but before he could even blink, an arrow sent from the leaves of the tree beside him sank deeply into Aeglironion's shoulder. Glorfindel quickly glanced up, noticing Legolas was reaching for a second arrow as Elladan and Elrohir looked at him with fear.

Aragorn's eyes widened since he had felt the wind of the arrow as it nearly skimmed his cheek. Aeglironion looked down at his shoulder with shock, his face paling in pain. After a moment, his hand loosened around the dagger as he swayed before falling from the horse, the child's muffled scream echoing in the trees as they both landed on the forest floor.

"_Estel_!"

Glorfindel sheathed his sword and quickly dismounted his horse while Elladan and Elrohir immediately leapt down from the trees. Legolas returned the arrow to its quiver before he too dropped to the forest floor beneath him. His intense gaze remained on Aeglironion as the golden-haired warrior and Elladan pulled him roughly to his feet while the Imladris patrol gathered around them, revealing Aragorn lying unmoving beneath him with the dagger near his shoulder.

Horrified, Legolas dropped his bow and hurried forward, kneeling beside the child as Elrohir did the same. "Estel," the prince murmured, lightly placing his hands on his thin arms and gently pulling him up from the ground while the younger twin reached out for his foster brother.

However, both Elves were stunned when they were met with a pair of shining gray eyes. Elrohir immediately enfolded the boy in his arms, holding him close as Aragorn gratefully leaned into his embrace. "Oh, Estel. _Tithen pen_..."

Legolas smiled as he watched the younger twin kiss Aragorn's head before slowly unwinding his arms from around him, keeping his hands securely on the child's shoulders. The Mirkwood monarch reached out and lowered the rag from Aragorn's mouth, finding a broad smile on his youthful face beneath it.

"I'm awl right," the boy told them quietly.

The prince chuckled as Elrohir worked on untying his foster brother's hands, a thin line of tears forming in his eyes. He glanced over at Aeglironion, seeing he was being supported by Elladan as Glorfindel and the rest of the guards surrounded him, before turning back to the child sitting in front of him. "I am so relieved, Estel," he muttered, lightly running his thumb over Aragorn's cheek.

Aragorn watched his friend carefully for a moment, wincing slightly when the circulation began to return to his hands when Elrohir removed the strip of cloth from his wrists, before his eyes narrowed slightly in concern when he looked in his eyes. "Why awe you cwying, Legowas?" he asked. "I got this!"

Legolas watched Aragorn curiously as he reached into the folds of his tunic before he pulled something out and held it out for him to see. The prince leaned forward slightly, his eyes widening when he saw a small vial that contained deep green herbs was resting in the child's palm.

It was Aeglironion's poison.

"For Thwan'dil!" Aragorn added cheerfully, his smile returning.

Legolas could not remove his gaze from the vial for a long moment, and when he finally did, his eyes had completely filled with tears as he looked into the boy's face. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around Aragorn and held him close in sheer joy and relief.

It was at that moment, as the child wound his arms around his neck, that the prince knew that not only was his friend safe, but also that his father would live.

* * *

><p>Elrond finished blending the athelas in with the tea he had prepared with the herbs his young foster son had been able to pilfer, sighing wearily as he passed a hand over his face. He then glanced down at Aragorn, giving him a small smile as he held his unoccupied hand out to him. The child returned it as he released the Elf lord's tunic and wrapped his small fingers around his hand before Elrond began to lead him toward the bed. He had ridden back to Rivendell with Glorfindel, but as soon as he had been enfolded in his foster father's arms the moment he returned to the house, he had refused to leave his side.<p>

Elladan and Elrohir waited tensely by the door with Erestor and Glorfindel, all watching hopefully as Elrond sat on the bed beside the ill Thranduil, Aragorn hastily taking his place on his lap. Legolas sat on the other side of his father, holding his hand tightly as he watched the dark-haired Elf carefully. The lord of Imladris gave the prince an exhausted though reassuring smile before turning his gaze back to the king. He chuckled quietly at the slightly revolted look that crossed his pale face as he eyed the small bowl in his hand warily.

"I must drink more of _that_?" Thranduil asked, wrinkling his nose as he raised his gaze to Elrond's amused features. "I do not doubt your or your son's skill as healers, _mellon-nín_, but it was unpleasant enough to drink once." Elrohir smirked from beside his twin.

Elrond's gray eyes gleamed, his smile lingering. "I know not if the first dose was potent enough to counteract the poison," he answered lightly. "I fully trust this will do so." He paused as a teasing smirk that rivaled that of his sons replaced the smile. "Though if you wish for me to add a couple drops of honey to it, I will gladly oblige."

Legolas quickly looked away to hide his broad grin while the elder Mirkwood monarch narrowed his eyes at the Elf lord. He recognized his friend's tactic to get Elladan and Elrohir to take any repulsive medicine he had made for them when they were Elflings, for it was the same trick he had used on Legolas when he was young. Elrond simply raised an eyebrow in response, and Thranduil reached forward and took the bowl from the dark-haired Elf's hand. He sipped the liquid it contained with slight disdain, the distaste he had for the antidote, however subtle, not going unnoticed.

"There, that was not so difficult," Elrond said, taking the empty bowl back from the Mirkwood king as Aragorn smiled from his lap. He chuckled when Thranduil gave him an almost dangerous look. But then, the Elf lord's smile slowly vanished. "You will be weak for some time, _mellon-nín_, but it is to be expected after what your body has endured. It will take time and rest to regain your strength. You must not exert yourself."

Thranduil smirked slightly. "Bed confinement?" he guessed.

"Bed confinement," Elrond confirmed with a nod, a hint of a smile curling the corner of his lips once more.

Legolas turned back to his father, beaming when he noticed the disgruntled look that was now on his face. "Do not fret, _Ada_," he muttered, chuckling quietly when Thranduil met his gaze. "It is not so unbearable." He had been on the receiving end of the lord of Imladris' treatments countless times. It was a change to now see the king in the same situation.

Thranduil smiled at his son, closing his eyes and tightening his ringed fingers around his hand when Legolas rested his head lightly against his. Elrond smiled as he watched the two monarchs for a moment, glancing down on Aragorn curiously when the child reached out and set his small hand on the king's arm. Thranduil slowly opened his eyes and turned to the child as Legolas lifted his head.

"Aye, _tithen pen_?"

"You feel better, Thwan'dil?" Aragorn asked hopefully. His worry for his new friend was clear.

Thranduil's smile returned as he set his hand on top of the child's dark hair. "I will be fine," he answered. "And I have you to thank, child. I owe you my life."

Aragorn lowered his gaze for a moment, slightly embarrassed, before he leaned forward and wrapped his arms around the king's neck. Thranduil was surprised by the sudden gesture, but he wrapped his free arm around the boy and pulled him close. "I am relieved you have been returned safely, Estel," the Mirkwood monarch told him. "As is your _ada_. He was very concerned for you."

A smile appeared on Aragorn's face as he glanced back at Elrond before turning back to Thranduil curiously. "And your _ada_ wiwl be gwad you awe awl right?" he wondered.

Legolas stiffened slightly as he glanced at his father hesitantly while Elrond watched the king carefully. The child's question was an innocent one, though they were both aware of the difficulty of this subject.

A moment passed before Thranduil gave the boy a small smile. "He would be," he said. "Though my father is no longer among us."

Aragorn appeared slightly confused by the king's words, though he could see the hints of sorrow that crossed Thranduil's face when he spoke them. "What is your _ada's_ name?"

Thranduil's smile broadened. "Oropher," he told him, a certain pride reflected in his voice.

The child tilted his head slightly. "O... O'pher?"

The king's body stiffened as his smile slowly vanished, and he met Elrond's gaze somewhat nervously. The lord of Imladris' expression remained impassive, though his eyes told a different story as his slender fingers drummed against the bed. Legolas' eyes moved from his father to Elrond and back, understanding their sudden apprehension since he had heard many tales of the mighty king of Greenwood the Great as an Elfling.

Aragorn, however, only appeared to be more confused as he looked from his foster father to Thranduil and back. "O'pher?" he repeated.

Then, however unexpectedly, Thranduil started to laugh. "Aye, Estel," he said, still chuckling between his words. "Oropher."

Soon, the exhaustion of both Mirkwood monarchs became evident, and Elladan and Elrohir retired to their own rooms to get some sleep as the sun continued to rise while Erestor left to tend to his wounded side before catching up on some paperwork. Elrond sat in the cushioned chair beneath the window, Aragorn on his lap, to monitor Thranduil's condition as he slept. Legolas stayed sitting on the bed beside his father with his hand wrapped securely around his, though his need for rest was also great, and his eyes soon closed as he leaned against the headboard, following the king into sleep.

Glorfindel stepped out of the room before returning a few moments later with a couple pillows and blankets for the sleeping occupants. He approached the bed and carefully lifted Legolas' head, causing the prince to stir slightly as he situated a pillow beneath him so he would be a bit more comfortable. The twice-born warrior smiled slightly when the prince did not wake before he moved on to check over Thranduil.

Elrond passed a weary hand over his face before rubbing his eyes. Giving his own strength to Thranduil so he was able to fight the poison that had been ravaging his system had drained him. His own body had been weakened by his attempt to sustain his friend, but it had been worthwhile since he had lingered until he could prepare the antidote. The king would survive, and that was all that mattered to him. He closed his eyes for a moment, desiring only a small amount of rest, but he knew he could not allow himself that yet.

However, his exhaustion did not go unnoticed.

"Take some rest, Elrond," Glorfindel muttered quietly from the bed as he looked back at his friend in concern. "I will watch over Thranduil."

Elrond slowly opened his eyes, smiling as he met the twice-born warrior's gaze. "Nay, Glorfindel," he replied just as quietly. "I will remain here. I may yet be needed."

Glorfindel sighed, his eyes moving over Elrond's slightly paler face and heavy eyes. The Elf lord had sacrificed much for the life of Thranduil, and the impact it had on him was clear. "Stubborn as always," he said, mainly to himself as he shook his head slightly. But then, a small smile appeared on his face when he saw Aragorn's eyes were nearly closed as well as he attempted to stay awake. He was not surprised that he was exhausted as his foster father was, and he was just relieved that the child was home.

Elrond glanced down at the small mortal on his lap, his smile mirroring the Balrog Slayer's when he saw his head beginning to droop. "Rest, Estel."

Aragorn quickly looked up at the Elf lord, rubbing his tired eyes. "Thwan'dil... wiwl be awl right?" he wondered, grasping Elrond's tunic.

His smile broadening, Elrond nodded once before leaning down and leaving a light kiss on the child's forehead. "He will recover, _penneth_."

"Awl right." Returning the smile, Aragorn leaned against his foster father's chest, taking a deep breath when the Elf lord's arms wrapped securely around him. He closed his eyes for a moment when the strong, steady beat of Elrond's heart surrounded him, savoring the safety the rhythmic sound provided. They opened again when his foster father's fingers ran through his hair a couple times, his smile broadening.

"May your dreams be pleasant, _ion-nín_."

Glorfindel smiled down on Aragorn when the child's gaze landed on him, the boy returning the look before he turned and walked back to the bed. He pulled the blanket up around Thranduil's shoulders a bit more, relieved to see he appeared to be resting peacefully by his untroubled, though still a bit too pale, features. The golden-haired warrior's light gaze traveled to the prince beside him, who even in sleep had his hand securely around his father's. It was clear to him that just as Aragorn could not be separated from Elrond, Legolas also had no intention to leave his king's side.

Aragorn shook his head slightly and rubbed his tired eyes when he felt them beginning to droop once more, but then he gasped quietly when he felt Elrond's arms loosen around him a little. He straightened up slightly, seeing his foster father's head was resting against the cushioned chair behind him, his eyes closed in exhaustion. He leaned a little closer to his smooth, tranquil features, a broad grin appearing on his face before he jumped off his lap to the floor. He crossed the room to Glorfindel, who was lightly draping one of the blankets he had brought over Legolas, and pulled on the sleeve of his tunic. The Balrog Slayer turned to face the child, a pleasant smile gracing his fair features.

"Aye, _tithen pen_?" he asked quietly, not wanting to disturb the Mirkwood monarchs from their much-needed rest.

Putting a small finger to his lips, Aragorn motioned for Glorfindel to come closer. Once the golden-haired Elf was crouched in front of him, he leaned close to his ear. "_Ada_," he whispered.

Glorfindel's eyes narrowed with confusion for a moment, but then his smile broadened when his gaze rested on the sleeping Elrond in the chair under the window, though he knew how exhausted his lord and friend must have truly been. He then lifted the second blanket from his arm and held it out to the boy. "Here, Estel."

Another broad smile spread across Aragorn's face as he reached out and eagerly took the blanket before he turned and hurried back to the chair. He set it on the cushioned arm before carefully climbing back up so he was sitting beside the Elf lord. The child then unfolded the blanket and slowly pulled it up to Elrond's shoulders to cover him, pausing when he stirred slightly but did not wake. His smile lingering, Aragorn leaned forward and lightly kissed his foster father's cheek.

"Good night, _Ada_."

Glorfindel smiled broadly as he watched the small mortal care for the fatigued Elf, chuckling quietly when Aragorn curled up so he was nestled against Elrond's side and wound his still limp but secure arm around him before finally allowing his eyes to close. The twice-born warrior then silently approached the now sleeping pair, carefully pulling the blanket out from under Aragorn and covering him as well before he leaned down and left a light kiss on his wild dark hair.

"Pleasant dreams, _tithen pen_."

**Author's Note**: So, for once, not a cliffie! Lol! I had to do *something* different, didn't I? Oh, and just for fun, "O'pher" is pronounced "gopher" without the "g." Thanks for that, **Gwed**. Haha! Anyway, we've got one chapter left for this story, so this isn't quite the end yet. Hope you enjoyed this one though! Your reviews are much appreciated. Thanks, guys!


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer**: Those you recognize belong to Tolkien. I do not own them. Those you do not recognize belong to me.

**Summary**: Gaining the friendship of a mortal child was not something Thranduil expected on his trip to Imladris with his son. But when secret plots result in grave consequences, the boy may be the king's one hope of survival.

**Author's Note**: Oh, my gosh, guys, I sincerely, sincerely apologize for the lack of updating for so long! The last few weeks of school were so hectic and busy that it got to the point of being stressful, and I just couldn't write. But, I am now on break, so here we are. I just had to relax a bit. And thanks to the motivational style of U2, this chapter was completed, lol. But, thank you so, so much to **Gwedhiel0117**, **Elven Warrior Princess**, **Zammy**, **Doreen**, **GuenVanHelsing**, **The Pearl Maiden**, and **PadawanCassy** for your wonderful reviews and patience! With that said, enjoy the last chapter! If you celebrate it, I hope you have a Merry Christmas and a happy New Year!

Elvish:

_hír-nín_- my lord  
><em>hannon le<em>- thank you  
><em>ada<em>- father  
><em>ion-nín<em>- my son  
><em>penneth<em>- young one  
><em>tithen pen<em>- little one  
><em>mellon-nín<em>- my friend

_Chapter 8_

The tall, fair-haired figure silently walked down the lightening hallway, his intense eyes set on a door at the end where a guard was stationed. He slowed his pace as he stopped before it, his gaze hardening and his jaw setting as he turned to the dark-haired Elf. The guard nodded once before reaching out and sliding the lock aside.

"If you require my aid, call out, _hír-nín_," the Imladris Elf told him quietly.

"I will," the fair-haired figure muttered before the guard pulled open the door, allowing him to step inside the small room.

Aeglironion slowly looked up from where he sat on the floor at the sudden sound, hints of the bandages that were wrapped tightly around his shoulder visible beneath the loose, light gray shirt he wore. A smirk appeared on his face when he saw the fair-haired Elf towering before him as the door shut quietly behind him.

"Your son has the truest aim of any I have ever seen," he said lightly, his slender fingers hovering near his wounded shoulder.

Thranduil stepped closer to the traitorous Elf, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Spare me the pleasantries," he replied, his tone now containing a dangerous edge.

Aeglironion's smirk broadened as he lowered his gaze once more. "As you wish, _hír-nín_." The slight traces of sincerity that had previously been reflected in his voice was gone, his tone now almost mocking. When the king remained silent, the prisoner slowly raised his light eyes back to his impassive yet still pale features. "You are faring better, I see."

However, the cook received no answer. Aeglironion sighed quietly as he leaned back against the wall, wearily closing his eyes as his smirk vanished. Thranduil watched him carefully for a moment before he sighed as well. "'Tis been a long time, Aeglironion," he muttered.

Chuckling quietly, Aeglironion slowly opened his eyes, meeting the king's impassive gaze. "Aye," he agreed quietly, almost thoughtfully. "A long time. The lovely Wood had not been tainted by the Shadow when last I gazed upon her."

A trace of anger flitted across Thranduil's stern features, his jaw setting firmly. The traitorous cook's eyes gleamed, realizing the effect his words had on the other Elf. "Mayhap your banishment was at an ideal time, then," the king said stiffly. "Though why you have been able to dwell in Imladris-!"

"Lord Elrond did not remember my name," Aeglironion interrupted heatedly, his eyes suddenly flaring. "He did not remember my face." He paused for a moment before his smirk returned. "Astounding how time affects even our memories. Though as I recall, you were burdened by other matters when you wrongfully banished me. It must be difficult, Thranduil, to follow in your father's footsteps. The pressures of living up to his name only to dwell in his shadow."

Thranduil's eyes narrowed dangerously, and he forced himself to take a deep breath before turning his gaze back to Aeglironion. "You were not wrongfully banished," he said, his tone steady.

Aeglironion raised an eyebrow. "No?"

The Woodland king took a few steps forward, stopping directly in front of the prisoner. "If you recall, you were banished on the grounds of plotting an assassination," he told him quietly, his light eyes smoldering.

"You still stand by that, I see." Aeglironion winced as he straightened up a little, setting his hand lightly on his tended shoulder. "I admitted to you that there were a couple soldiers in my forces who were discontent under your father's rule and did not desire for you to take his place on the throne. Aye, they were close to me. But I did not aid in their plans."

Thranduil's face remained impassive, but his intense gaze did not leave the Elf before him. "You were among them when they were discovered. You possessed the poison you planned to use."

Aeglironion shook his head slightly. "You never took into consideration that the reason I was there differed from their own," he countered. "You hardly gave the case a second glance."

The Mirkwood monarch sighed as he passed a weary hand over his face. "It was a difficult time. My-!"

"Yes, your noble father was killed in the field of battle, leaving you to take his place." Aeglironion slowly rose to his feet to meet his former king's gaze. "You were under the pressures of beginning to rule a kingdom." He paused, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Matters of greater importance to handle, am I correct?"

Thranduil steadily held the traitorous Elf's gaze. "'Tis something you would not know," he murmured.

Aeglironion nodded once. "Aye, I will say I have never been forced to bear such a burden," he agreed. Then a smirk turned up the corner of his lips. "Though mayhap it is Elrond I should have given more attention to. He was over your shoulder, as I recall. Lending his wise guidance in such a turbulent time-!"

The cook's sentence abruptly came to an end when Thranduil stepped closer to him, his eyes narrowed dangerously. "It was my judgement, my word, that banished you," he whispered angrily.

"Aye, _hír-nín_," Aeglironion muttered, his eyes narrowing slightly as well. "You know not what you, and Elrond, have taken from me, Thranduil, though by the Valar, one day you will."

Thranduil stiffened at the threat, though before he could respond, a new voice was heard from behind him. "You should not be out of bed, Thranduil."

A slight smirk appearing on his face, the Mirkwood monarch turned to find Erestor standing in the open doorway, his arms crossed before him in slight irritation. "Lord Elrond would not approve," the slender advisor added, arching an almost challenging eyebrow.

The king chuckled quietly. "Then mayhap it is fortunate that he is not the one who discovered me," he said.

Erestor sighed, uncrossing his arms as he approached the two fair-haired Elves. "You remind me of two certain difficult _Elflings _who often had a disregard for their father's orders," he grumbled, causing Thranduil to laugh once more. A hint of a smile appeared on his slightly paler face for a brief moment before his gaze hardened when they landed on Aeglironion. "Your punishment will be decided on the morrow, as well as Amonost's."

Aeglironion smirked, nodding his head once. "As my lord Elrond commands it."

There was something about the traitorous Elf's tone and the look in his eye that did not settle with Erestor, though he kept his face impassive. The advisor then turned away, setting his hand on Thranduil's arm and steering him in the direction of the door. Aeglironion chuckled from behind them.

"Remember my words, Thranduil."

The king stopped, turning over his shoulder to look at the other fair-haired Elf. The confident yet dangerous smirk on his face was the last thing he saw before Erestor none-too-gently urged him out of the room, shutting the door behind them.

* * *

><p>Elrohir rolled over on his bed one more time, sighing heavily with defeat as he buried his face in his pillow in attempt to block the sunlight sneaking into his room. Though he immediately knew it would do no good. His entire body was nearly pleading him to rest after the trials of the past night, but sleep had been evasive since he and Elladan had retired to their rooms once they knew Thranduil would make a full recovery. However, he was sure his twin was being rewarded with that rest since his mind was not nearly as burdened down as his own.<p>

Giving another resigned sigh, Elrohir slowly sat up and stretched, detangling his legs from the light sheets before rising to his feet. He quickly changed from his sleep shirt to a deep blue tunic, passing a weary hand over his face and through his dark, disheveled hair. Perhaps he would focus on his training with some of the soldiers that afternoon. That should provide him with the distraction he needed.

But then, a small smirk appeared on the younger twin's face as he placed his hand lightly on his stomach when it rumbled quietly. Training would have to come after he stopped by the kitchens.

Elrohir stepped out into the hallway, shutting the door behind him before he began to walk down the hall toward the stairs that would bring him down to the kitchens. But he slowed his pace when he passed a slightly open door as he turned the corner, and with a quiet sigh, the younger twin slowly approached the room and snuck a look inside.

Elrond was asleep in the chair under the window, and Elrohir was slightly concerned to see that his eyes were closed. He hadn't realized just how exhausted his father was, but he knew he should not have been surprised. The lord of Imladris had given a substantial amount of his own strength to keep Thranduil alive.

A small smile then appeared on his face when he noticed Aragorn curled up under a blanket leaning against Elrond's chest, his mouth slightly open. Elrohir was just relieved that the small mortal had been returned safely after Aeglironion had taken him. He loved the boy as though he were his own brother and did not know what he or any of his family would have done should something have happened to him. With a quiet sigh, the younger twin quietly entered the room and approached the sleeping pair, bending over and leaving a light kiss on Aragorn's head. The child did not stir.

When Elrohir turned back around, he was surprised when he saw Legolas was smiling at him from where he sat beside a sleeping Thranduil, the king's eyes also closed. "I am sorry, Legolas," he muttered. "I did not realize you were awake."

The Mirkwood prince chuckled quietly. "'Tis all right, Elrohir," he replied just as quietly, turning back to the book that was resting in his lap. "I have also been unable to sleep soundly."

Elrohir did not miss the brief but worried glance Legolas sent toward Thranduil. "Has your father been sleeping the entire morning?" he wondered. "That will aid in his recovery."

Surprisingly, Legolas chuckled. "Nay," he said, shutting the book and setting it aside. "Though I am sure he would wish me to believe so. I do not know where he went, but he left the room some time ago. He was not gone for long, but I knew the moment he left the bed. I have been awake since."

The younger twin smiled. His friend was as stubborn as always, it would seem. "You do not know where he could have possibly gone?" he asked. He wasn't sure where Thranduil would feel the need to go when he was still so weak. Surely anything could have waited a bit longer.

Legolas slowly shook his head, turning to his father again. "I know not," he answered. "And I am certain he will not tell me."

Elrohir nodded slightly, knowing the king had his reasons. But then, another smile appeared on his face. "_Hannon le_," he murmured.

The prince quickly turned to the younger twin, confusion clear on his fair face. "What for, Elrohir?"

"For saving Estel," Elrohir said, his smile lingering. "No one would have taken the shot you made. If you had not, I know not whether my brother would be safe with us now."

Legolas gave the dark-haired Elf a warm smile. "That child is dear to us all," he replied sincerely. "I am grateful he is home where he belongs."

Elrohir's smile broadened, but before he could say anything more, both he and Legolas turned to the chair under the window when they heard the quiet sound of a throat clearing. The younger twin's gray eyes widened slightly. "_Ada_."

A small smile appeared on Elrond's face as he looked back at Elrohir and the Mirkwood Elf. But then, a knowing look entered his gaze when it rested on his son. "What is troubling you, Elrohir?" he asked quietly, resting his hand on top of Aragorn's dark hair to ensure the child did not wake.

Surprised by the inquiry, Elrohir lowered his eyes slightly. "Nothing troubles me, _Ada_," he answered, not able to look directly at the Elf lord. "I apologize if we woke you."

Elrond nodded once. "You did not wake me," he assured him, his smile lingering. "I am more concerned for you, _ion-nín_. What is it you wish to speak to me about?"

Elrohir did not answer. With a quiet sigh, Elrond held Aragorn close to him as he rose to his feet. Then, making sure the blanket was wrapped securely around him, he carefully set the small boy back down on the chair before he approached his son. The younger twin still could not meet his gaze, and the Elf lord set his hand lightly on his arm.

"Come. Walk with me, Elrohir," Elrond muttered, giving him a kind smile when the younger Elf finally did look at him.

Unable to argue, Elrohir nodded once. Elrond tightened his hold on his arm for a moment before releasing it, and after a careful look at Thranduil, he stepped out of the room. Sighing, the younger twin hurried after him.

Elrond was slowly walking down the hall, a serene smile on his face as he gazed out the windows at the bright sunlight that covered his realm. That smile broadened when Elrohir fell into step beside him. "Lovely afternoon," he commented quietly. "'Tis refreshing to feel the sun after such an ordeal."

"Aye, _Ada_," Elrohir agreed, though it was only halfheartedly.

The Elf lord gazed at Elrohir with concern. "Speak what is on your mind, _penneth_," he said, and though his voice was gentle, it was still almost a command. "It burdens me to see you so perturbed."

Elrohir's gray eyes faltered as he turned to meet his father's similar ones. "_Ada_," he began hesitantly. "Why would you place the blame for Aeglironion's actions on yourself? Surely the fault is not yours."

Elrond's kind visage darkened slightly as he slowed to a stop, Elrohir doing the same beside him. He then approached one of the broad windows overlooking the peaceful land, and he sighed quietly as he leaned on the stone sill. Elrohir lingered back, watching the older Elf carefully. A long moment passed as the lord of Imladris simply watched his people move around to fulfill their daily obligations, his dark hair spilling over his shoulders and shielding his face from view.

"I journeyed to Greenwood after the death of her king," Elrond explained quietly, his fingers tightening around the windowsill. "Though his closest advisor was doing all he could to aid the kingdom, I wanted to ensure that Thranduil was handling the turbulent time as well as possible. He was, of course. He was strong for his people, which I admire him for. It was difficult for him to not only handle the new responsibilities of ruling a realm, but also the death of his father."

Elrohir watched Elrond carefully, unable to imagine how difficult that time must have been for Thranduil. His eyes narrowed slightly. He wanted to forgot how Aeglironion had almost taken his father from him. He did not want to imagine what would have happened had he succeeded.

"While I was there, a small group of Greenwood's soldiers from the Alliance was discovered plotting to assassinate Thranduil," Elrond continued, his body stiffening slightly at the memory. "They were displeased with Oropher's rule and did not wish to see his son on the throne. Aye, both Oropher and Thranduil had the love and support of their people, save for these select few. Aeglironion was among them, though he claimed he had discovered their plan and was attempting to dissuade them.

"But the evidence against him was overwhelming. The poison they planned to use, which was of his own making, was in his possession. I should have recognized it now since it was the same. Though Aeglironion was insistent."

"What happened, _Ada_?" Elrohir still could not see how his father could place the blame on himself for the traitorous Elf's actions against him and Thranduil.

Elrond sighed as he turned to face his younger son. "Thranduil was burdened with many matters during that time," he told him. "I aided him as much as I could. And when this assassination attempt was revealed, I advised him to do what I thought would be best for him and his kingdom in the already present turbulence. So, he banished Aeglironion and the other soldiers. Aeglironion argued with us until the end, claiming that he had no part in it. But, what was done was done. Thranduil's word was final."

The Elf lord paused and chuckled quietly, though it had a somber feel. "If Aeglironion truly had no part in the plot, I will never know. It was over quickly, and I had my own worries, so I almost had no recollection of him when he arrived in Imladris. But that he would wait so long before plotting against us, I suppose he never will forgive us."

"_Ada_, the blame for what happened is not yours or Thranduil's," Elrohir said, approaching his father. "You did what was best. It was better not to risk that."

Elrond gave the younger twin a small smile as he set his hand lightly on the side of his head. "_Hannon le_, Elrohir," he murmured. "That is what I believed then. There were so many matters demanding Thranduil's attention, and later mine in my own realm, that if we could handle ones like these as quickly as possible..." He paused with a sigh. "But if there had been even the slimmest chance that Aeglironion was innocent, we should have looked at the situation a bit more closely. I just thought that at the time, it was the best route. But, looking back, I know it was not."

Elrohir placed his hands securely on Elrond's arms. But before he could say anything, the Elf lord continued. "However, I am simply relieved that I was able to create the antidote for Thranduil in time to stop his plan this time. It is over, _ion-nín_. It will do you no good to dwell on it anymore. Do I have your word?"

The younger twin nodded, and Elrond smiled as he embraced him for a moment. He then pulled away, giving his son a warm smile before he turned and began to walk back toward the room where his patient was hopefully still asleep. Elrohir watched him for a quick minute before taking a couple steps after him.

"_Ada_!"

Elrond stopped, looking over his shoulder. "Aye, _penneth_?"

Elrohir sighed. "What part did Amonost have in this?" he asked. He had a hard time believing that the guard who had long served under Glorfindel and who had a hand in his and Elladan's training as they grew would aid in such a plot.

The Elf lord sighed as he completely turned to face the younger twin. "He was one of the guards who accompanied me to Greenwood when Aeglironion was banished," he answered. "He had gained his friendship during the Alliance, which is why I am sure he aided in his coming to Imladris. Though from what Glorfindel has told me, he has retained some of his loyalty to me."

The younger twin smiled slightly, remembering how the guard had seemed much more hesitant than Aeglironion to harm the gentle-hearted master of Imladris. But then, that look slowly vanished. "And what of Estel?" he pressed. "Why would Aeglironion take him?"

Elrond shook his head slightly. "Aside from an attack on me, I know not why Aeglironion would take Estel," he told him honestly. "He is but an innocent child who should have had no part in this."

Elrohir opened his mouth to reply, but the Elf lord held up his hand to silence him. "Estel is safe," he added. "That is what is important." The younger twin only nodded.

"... _Ada_..."

At the new, quiet voice, Elrond quickly turned around, a smile appearing on his face when he saw Aragorn was standing in the open doorway, rubbing his tired eyes as he looked up at the two dark-haired Elves. Legolas stood behind him, giving the Elf lord an apologetic look. "You are awake, _ion-nín_."

Aragorn only nodded, yawning as he stepped out into the hallway and held his small arms out to the lord of Rivendell. Elrond knelt on the hard floor and pulled the child into his arms, feeling him rest his head on his shoulder before he rose to his feet again. "Shall we put you to bed, Estel?" he asked.

But Aragorn shook his head, quickly lifting it to look Elrond. "I'm not tiwed, _Ada_," he answered, causing the dark-haired Elf to chuckle. "Can I stay with you? To hewp Thwan'dil?"

Elrond smiled, leaving a soft kiss on the mortal boy's forehead. "Aye, _tithen pen_," he muttered. "You may." Aragorn smiled, wrapping his arms tightly around his foster father's neck.

Elrohir couldn't help but smile as he watched Elrond carry Aragorn back into the room, Legolas with them. He stood out in the hallway for a moment longer, sighing before he followed them inside and shut the door behind him.

* * *

><p>"I did not intend to sleep for the entire day, <em>mellon-nín<em>," Thranduil said with a grin as he took a spoonful of the herb soup the house's cooks had prepared for supper.

Elrond chuckled as he turned to the Mirkwood king. "Rest was something you needed," he replied. "I was not about to wake you." His attention was then drawn to Aragorn, who sat close beside him with his small hand tightly grasping his light tunic, to ensure his soup was not too hot.

The two Elves were sitting at one of the long wooden tables in the kitchens with not only Aragorn but Legolas, Elladan, Elrohir, and Glorfindel as well. The warm sun was beginning to set over Imladris, and while the twins and prince chuckled about some jest between them, the Elf lord was just relieved that the Mirkwood king was well enough to join them.

"You are appearing better, Thranduil," Glorfindel stated with a smile, taking a sip of his wine.

"I am feeling better, Glorfindel, _hannon le_," Thranduil told him, returning the smile as he too tasted the wine. "Thanks entirely to Elrond's care."

The Elf lord grinned. "I am pleased you have not struggled _too_ much, _mellon-nín_," he muttered.

Thranduil narrowed his eyes slightly at Elrond, but then his smile returned. "I do believe I will follow your suggestion and remain here in Imladris for a few more days," he said, turning his gaze to Legolas, who had perked up slightly at his words, across from him. "That is, if my son does not mind."

"Nay, _Ada_," Legolas assured him, an excited grin appearing on his face.

Elrond laughed. "The decision would not have been yours, Thranduil," he told him. "I would not have allowed you to depart if I did not deem you fit for travel." His grin returned when he caught the disgruntled look that crossed the king's face. "Do not fret. You and Legolas are always welcome in my home. I will have your rooms prepared. And we still have those negotiations to complete."

"Ai." Thranduil placed his face in his hand. "I had hoped you had forgotten those, _mellon-nín_."

"There was never a chance." Elrond's gray eyes gleamed as he sipped his wine.

Aragorn blew on his soup before taking a cautious spoonful. Then, he turned to his foster father. "Thwan'dil and Legowas awe reawwy staying hewe?" he asked hopefully.

Elrond smiled down at him, kissing his head. "Aye, for a few more days so Thranduil can fully recover," he confirmed. The mortal boy grinned broadly as he turned to Legolas, his eyes radiating the joy he felt. The sight warmed the Elf lord's heart, knowing how close Aragorn was to the Elven prince.

Glorfindel chuckled as he watched the excited child, but then his features grew more serious as he turned to Elrond and Thranduil. "And judgement must be passed on Aeglironion and Amonost," he muttered gravely.

Thranduil took another sip of wine before turning to look at the lord of Imladris. Elrond sighed. "Aye, Glorfindel," he agreed quietly, watching as Legolas and his sons all laughed excitedly together. "Though it must wait until the morrow if Thranduil is able. 'Tis almost nightfall."

"I will be," Thranduil said in nearly a whisper, his intense gaze resting on the bowl of herb soup he had hardly touched before him. His tone made it clear that he wanted the entire ordeal behind him as soon as possible. He felt a light hand land on his arm, and he gave Elrond a grateful smile.

Glorfindel's smile slowly reappeared as he watched his two friends, his mind wandering to their absent companion. "I believe I will bring some soup and wine up to our dear advisor," he stated.

Elrond met his gaze, chuckling quietly as he nodded. "It concerns me when Erestor locks himself up in the library so often," he muttered. "Though his work cannot wait, I suppose. Aye, Glorfindel. I am sure he will appreciate it."

The twice-born warrior laughed a little himself as he rose to his feet and made his way into the back of the kitchens. He watched the table as the cooks hurried to prepare another bowl for the missing Erestor, his smile lingering as Elrond and Thranduil joined in their children's laughter. After the king had nearly lost his life the night before, it was a welcome sight indeed.

Once the soup and wine were ready, Glorfindel took them and hurriedly left the kitchens, making his way up the nearby stairs up to the library. Balancing the bowl and goblet on one arm, he pushed open the door and stepped inside the vast room. Humming quietly to himself, the Balrog Slayer walked between the many rows of bookshelves toward the back table where his friend always worked.

However, Glorfindel stopped, his eyes narrowing slightly. Erestor was not sitting at his usual table, bent over with his nose nearly touching the parchment he was working on. In fact, it appeared as though he hadn't sat at his designated spot since before Thranduil had been poisoned.

A bit concerned, Glorfindel turned and crossed the library at a slightly quicker pace, stepping out into the hallway and walking in the direction of the thin advisor's room. It was the only other place he could think of where he would be at this hour.

The twice-born warrior walked around the corner, noticing the door of Erestor's room at the end of the hall was open. He hurried forward as quickly as he could without spilling the soup or wine in his hands and paused in front of the room, sneaking a look inside. It appeared to be empty.

Wondering where else the irritable Elf could be, Glorfindel took a quiet step inside the room, seeing nothing was disturbed. It also looked like Erestor hadn't been in there since the night before.

But where could he have been?

Then, Glorfindel paused when he saw the closet door was open. His concern growing, the Balrog Slayer silently crossed the room and leaned around the door to look inside.

Erestor was standing stiffly in the dark closet before the shelves of blank parchment, extra quills, vials of ink, and organized paperwork, his face much paler than when Glorfindel had seen him that morning. In his hands rested a Noldorin dagger.

**The End**

**Author's Note**: Okay, so before you guys freak out, lol, this kinda mysterious, open ending was very much intentional. As are the couple questions I'm sure I've left you all with. Why? Because part two, called "Stained," will be coming up soon! So, again, thanks to everyone who read and reviewed this story! I'm glad you all enjoyed it so much! And, with that in mind, here's a sneak peek at what's coming up in "Stained." Thanks again, guys!

The darkness hung heavily over him, nearly compressing his lungs.

The dark-haired Elf slowly sat up, pausing and placing his hand on his ribs when a sharp pain shot through them. He waited a moment for it to pass before sitting up completely, slowly looking at the darkness pressing in around him. At first he believed himself to still be blindfolded, but when he tentatively reached up to touch his face, he felt the soft cloth had been removed. A slight twinge of panic touched his heart. He could not see much of his surroundings despite his sharp eyesight, a sensation he was unaccustomed to. It was enough to unnerve him.

Where was he?

Then, he gasped when a quiet, pained whimper fell slightly muted on his ears. The dark-haired Elf quickly looked around him intently for the source of the sound. He reached out with his hands, hardly able to see them in front of his face as he searched, frustrated by his hindered sight. The quiet sound was heard a second time, and he hastened his search.

Finally, he felt his fingertips brush against a cold hand. Tightening his own hand around it, the Elf winced slightly as he moved closer to the second figure, hardly able to make out his companion in the darkness. He moved his fingers up the arm of the other Elf, feeling what seemed to be dried blood in the long strands of his fair hair, before finally coming to rest on top of his head. The dark-haired Elf shook his head slightly, his eyes narrowing with concern.

"You should not have had to suffer this," he whispered to himself. "Not with me."


End file.
